A Very Confusing Blackfyre Rebellion (ASOIAFSI) - Complete
by xxJevranxx
Summary: This is a fic I was inspired to write when I read a post in Spacebattles. All credit to the original poster for the idea. And I hope you enjoy it. The original premise is this. ROB turns you into Visenya Targaryen and sends you into Westeros during the war of the five kings shortly after Renly died. You have all her skills, memories, dragon, sword and is is my version.


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This is a fic I was inspired to write when I read this thread in SB by Widowmaker. All credit to Widow for the idea. And I hope you enjoy it.

The original premise is this. ROB turns you into Visenya Targaryen and sends you into Westeros during the war of the five kings shortly after Renly died. You have all her skills, memories, dragon, sword and armor. I changed it slightly and went back a little to the Blackfyre Rebellion.

 _As always, this is a work of fiction and I own no part of the original work._

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 **A Very Confusing Blackfyre Rebellion (ASOIAF/SI)**

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 **Prologue**

I was in a white space.

All around me there was whiteness. It stretched outward forever, pristine white without even a speck of dirt with no walls or ceiling that I could see. I was alone except for one other person.

"This is the strangest place I have ever been to," The boy standing next to me said. "Are you sure we're not dead?"

"I hope not," I looked around. "If this is the afterlife it's going to be very boring in a very short time."

"I would agree," The boy said. Then he frowned. "I believe that I should be more worried than this. Or at least angry at suddenly finding myself in a place like this." He indicted the white all around us. "But I am quite calm."

I thought about it. "Me too. I'm pretty sure I should be having a panic attack right about now. This place seems to be stopping or at least muting our emotions."

"Where are we? Do you know?" The boy asked.

"No idea," I said. "Who are you anyways? I don't think I asked."

"Apologies. I forget my manners," The boy smiled. "I'm Daemon of House Blackfyre."

Even in the white space, I felt shock. "Huh?"

"It's a new house, barely a year old," Daemon continued oblivious. "I started it after I was knighted and legitimized."

Now that I looked I saw the silver blonde hair, royal purple eyes. The sculpted face. And the three headed dragon, black on red, that was emblazoned on what I had originally assumed to be a shirt but now saw was a surcoat and that there was actual chain-mail underneath.

"You have got to be fucking joking," I said. This was the actual Daemon Blackfyre -He pronounced his name as Damon- or the world's best cosplayer.

"What?" He frowned. "What is it? Do you know me? Do you have a grievance against me?"

"This is going to be one awkward explanation," I said. "Let me begin at the beginning."

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Some time later I had finished the story.

"So you are telling me that as far as you know I am a 'character' in a mummer's play? Someone made up to entertain children?"

"You look pretty real from where I am," I said. "Maybe it's me who's the fictional character and you the real one?"

"And I rebelled against King Dearon and died at a place called Redgrass Field? Because he wouldn't let me marry my love? Killed by Brynden?" He clearly wasn't listening. "Killed by a bow without ever having the chance to defend myself?"

"At the age of twenty six at most," I said. I looked him up and down. "A bloody waste if you ask me."

He gave a small grin. "Thank you. I will be sure to stay well away from any Redgrass Fields. And if I ever see that white bastard with a bow, I'll duck behind my shield."

"Assuming we ever get out of here," I reminded him.

His face fell. "Yes assuming that." Then he shook his head. "I never thought his grace will deny me my love. He seemed a good man, and I was faithful. I swore him my sword and was unfailingly loyal. And to give so much to Dorne? Do you know how much of our blood the Dornish have shed? Do you know how many lords have lost sons in Dorne? It's a wonder this didn't lead to a rebellion much earlier."

"That," I paused. "It would be pretty unpopular. I have to wonder how much that counts in a monarchy though. The king is the law right?"

Daemon shook his head. "The king rules at the sufferance of his lords. Especially if the king is dragonless. And half the Stormlands and all the Reach want blood right now."

"Huh," I said. "No wonder so many people supported you. And I seem to remember you ruled from the reach and fought against the Lannisters. And the enemy vanguard at your…..last battle was held by the Arryns."

"It won't happen," Daemon said firmly. "I will not rebel. And I will not let anyone talk me into rebelling."

"You might not have a choice," I reminded him. "I don't know the precise circumstances of you rebelling. But I seem to remember one interpretation that said that you were forced into it when Bloodraven ordered you arrested on a made up charge."

Daemon frowned. "I can well believe that of the bastard. Then I have no recourse but to cross the Narrow Sea. I will start a sellsword company and make a name for myself."

"The Golden Company?" I asked.

"The Black Dragons." The reference went clear over his head. "Maybe Dany will runaway with me. I can disguise her as a man."

"You've got it bad huh?" He glared at me. "Now now," I said and held up my hands. "I'm all for two lovers giving the finger to their elders and getting it on. But you're dealing with the ruler of an actual continent. Unless you fake your death you're pretty much fucked."

Daemon's glare turned into a frown. "I will not give up my love! Not when I know the tragedy that awaits us!"

"You're twelve!" I pointed out. "You can't even be masturbating at this age!" I frowned. "Can you?"

"I'm three and ten," Daemon snapped. "And I will not give up! I will fight for my life and my love!"

"Well if you have a way to do that without getting chopped to pieces by all the kingsguard and all the kings hands, then I'd love to hear it."

A new voice interrupted us. "I believe I can help with that."

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"So let me get this straight," I said. "You are a real life R.O.B. A Random Omnipotent Being. And you brought us together to what? Save the world? The Night King isn't due for a long time."

"The Night King?" Daemon interrupted. "Isn't he a northern story?"

"He's a dark lord trying to kill everyone in your world," I said absentmindedly. "Now let's get back to the matter at hand."

"It's downright silly to wait until the last moment to take out a threat," The...ROB said. He looked like a man in a three piece suit, but with a blurred face that was impossible to focus on. "I'm sending you in a hundred years early to strengthen the realm. Do whatever you feel needs to be done. Make them aware of magic. Reinforce the Night's Watch. Go into the Dragonglass mining business. Because let me tell you, an enemy who has eight thousand years worth of combat and magical experience cannot be dealt with just by using a Jon Snow."

"Uh huh?" I shared a look with Daemon. "And you oh so magnanimously come to us with this offer because?"

"I have plans for that world. And Daemon already knows that he's going to die," Rob said. "He has ample reason to change his fate. And you have intimate knowledge of the obscure facts about this new world and are already dead in your world, so has nowhere else to go."

"Huh?" I choked.

"Oh yes, you died. Car accident. Didn't I tell you?" Rob waved a hand. "If you leave this place without my blessing you go to the actual afterlife. And whatever heaven or hell that awaits. Think of this as an extension for you. The longer you live in Westeros, the longer you delay the inevitable."

"I'm sorry." That was Daemon, and the kid genuinely looked sorry. "If there is a chance of avoiding my fate. Then I will take it. But I will not force that on you." Damn his knightly nobleness.

"I…..," I thought about it. "What the hell? If I really am dead then I'll agree to go to Westeros. I can at least introduce some proper toilets to the poor mortals."

"Good," Rob said. "I will send Daemon back and send you into a brand new body I made just for you!" He indicated me. "And I will give you all the help I can give within reasonable limits. Be warned, I can't give you things that don't exist in that world, like power armor. But I can give you dragons and dragon steel."

"Dragons!" Daemon had literal stars in his eyes.

"I can't give them to you," Rob said and his face fell. "You already exist in the world and I can't interfere with you. I can however, send them with the new arrival."

I looked at the wide pleading eyes of the black dragon. He looked like a kid who had just been told he could meet Santa. I also remembered, with a strange sort of calm, that I was dead.

"What the hell!" I said. "Let's do it."

"Excellent!" Rob clapped his hands together. "Oh and you might want to agree on a password to recognize each other by. You're body," He indicated me. "Needs to change to be a dragonrider. Necessary sacrifice you understand."

Daemon and I looked at each other.

"A saying from your world, that no one in mine will know," He said.

I thought about it. "Peanut butter."

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 **Chapter 1**

I opened my eyes to a forest.

A huge coniferous forest with trees that looked like they were hundreds of years old.

Oh and it was damp.

It was a rainy kind of forest and the damp and the wet lingered.

I pulled myself to my feet with a groan and clambered to my feet. It was harder than usual because I was wearing armor. Actual plate armor like an actual knight. And there was a honest to god sword belted at my waist and a giant crimson cloak was draped across my shoulders.

I felt odd, out of balance.

Moving in armor was very different from moving in cloths or even moving with a heavy backpack. There was weight on my shoulders and my waist. Even my arms and legs felt heavy because of the leg and arm guards. The helmet was heavy on my head and muted the sound around me. My field of vision was more or less intact. But I couldn't really see out of the corners of my eyes.

I stood on unsteady feet and balanced on my armored feet before checking the forest around me.

I remembered, quite vividly, what I had been doing before I ended up like this. The white space. Daemon Blackfyre. The ROB and the deal we made. I looked down at myself and then looked around me at the forest again.

Now that I looked closely, the metal was a smoky dark color. It had hundreds of ripples that ran through the metal, like Damascus steel but not. I jumped up and down a little. For someone wearing steel from head to toe, I was feeling rather light. I knew how heavy steel was from one of my old jobs. This metal wasn't weightless, but it was lighter than any metal had a right to be.

Unless I had gone completely off my mark, I was wearing Valyrian steel armor.

I half pulled the sword at my hip from it's scabbard, and sure enough, it was the same smoky metal.

Yup. I was equipped with Valyrian steel armor and sword.

A sword I was pretty sure I didn't know how to use.

Well. Looks like ROB kept his word and gave me what help her could.

But he had then fucked up by stranding in the middle of a forest that I had no idea how to get out of. Hell I had no idea what kingdom I was in.

I paused and deliberately drew in a long breath and released it.

If…. If I was really here then I have to make the most of the situation.

Find my way to civilization. Find Daemon. And get on with our mission.

The more I focused on that the less chance of me having a full on panic attack and collapsing into a gibbering, quivering, puddle.

I nodded firmly.

That's what I will do.

A snorting sound from behind me had me jumping, stumbling and spinning around….

… And came face to face with a dragon.

A real life. Giant. Scaled. Green. Winged. Dragon.

It was right up to my face.

It must have been right behind me all the time.

I stared.

The dragon snorted.

All the panic I had been suppressing came tumbling out.

I screamed and fainted.

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When I regained my senses, the dragon was sniffing me.

It was sniffing me like a giant scaly puppy of doom.

I groaned and pushed the giant puppy away from me and stumbled to my feet again, fighting past the brief bout of dizziness that assailed me.

The dragon watched me curiously.

Vhagar.

I instinctively knew the dragon's name.

One of the three conquest era dragons. The one ridden by queen Visenya. She, I also knew somehow that this was a she, was giant. She easily topped fifty foot in length and that wasn't counting the wingspan or tail. Her head was raised far above me now, and was large enough to swallow a man whole.

Scratch that. She could swallow a horse and rider whole.

Her scales shimmered green and looked to be tougher than armor. Her tail was a thick as a tree trunk and looked to be strong enough to knock a house down.

I mustered up my courage and stepped closer to her to lay a gauntlet clad hand on her scales, and could feel the head coming off her.

She was a furnace.

Fire made flesh indeed.

Vhagar made a rumbling sound in her belly as I touched her and cautiously rubbed her scaly hide.

This, if nothing else convinced me that this was real.

No amount of technology or props could let anyone fake this.

This beast was real.

And that meant that this situation real.

"Shit," I said.

Vhagar rumbled.

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"I don't suppose we have a bond like the wargs do?" I asked her.

Vhagar snorted.

"No I didn't think so," I said. "I suddenly have a great deal of respect for all the dragonriders who had the sheet brass balls to mount one of you."

Vhagar snorted.

"Well," I kept talking. "If I ride you I can easily get out of the forest. But if I ride you then everyone will know I'm a dragonrider -sort of- and raise hue and cry. So...what to do?"

Vhagar started to sniff at a tree.

"No…. I have to do this the old fashioned way. Pick a direction and walk," I looked around and at the giant trees around me. "I don't even know where North is." Was the sun rising or setting? I could only catch glimpses through the branches.

I sighed and did as I had suggested earlier. Picked a direction at random. "That way!" I started walking, my crimson cloak trailing behind me.

Behind me I felt a shuffling sound and looking over my shoulder, I saw the huge dragon following behind me like the worlds largest doggie.

"Yea gods."

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I had been walking for a while now and I knew for a fact that I hated forests. If I manage to link up with Daemon, ever, and if he became king, ever, then I'll prevail upon him to burn every forest in Westeros.

After some time clomping along though, I found a small beaten path through the trees. The massive trees seem to give it natural roofing, sheltering it from rain and shine, probably preventing it from being too muddy.

For that much I was grateful.

After I found the path, I had followed it. Vhagar dutifully trailing behind.

I had barely been walking an hour when the first sign of progress made itself known.

A man came walking around a bend in the path. A man wearing rough spun clothing and leading a mule pulling a cart. I myself had been close to the bend when her had turned the corner, to there was barely twenty feet between us. When the poor man saw us however, he froze in terror and jumped towards his mule in an attempt to hide behind the beast. The mule himself was frozen though, and was bleating in terror.

I looked behind me at the giant dragon.

Oh.

"Sorry," I smiled at the poor man. "I assure you that she's harmless. Can you answer some questions for me? I merely wish to know where we are. What is this forest? And what kingdom are we in?"

The man kept hiding behind the mule.

"Oh come now," I grumbled. "Even I wasn't this afraid of her when I met her." Maybe because I knew instinctively that she wouldn't harm me. "Just answer the question. Where are we?"

Finally the poor man poked his head out from behind the mule. "You're…..you're pardon Milady, but this is….. this is the Kingswood."

Oh. I knew what the Kingswood was. It was in the Crownlands of Westeros and quite close to King's Landing and where Daemon was. So I just had to… wait a minute.

"Milady?" What was this idiot talking about?

"I'm sorry!" The random person behind the mule wailed. "I meant Your Grace, Your Grace!"

I sighed. "I'm not a duke. Or a King for that matter. No what I meant was, why did you call….me…..," I stopped myself as horrible suspicion began to form.

Cautiously, I looked down at myself.

I couldn't really see myself through my armor, and the things was tight enough that I couldn't really feel anything inside either. And the tight fit made it hard to reach inside. And getting it off was a core in itself. But…

"Turn around now!" I commanded the poor man.

When he complied I reached in between my legs. The armor didn't cover me fully. There was a space between my breastplate and leg guards where my leather pants were the only thing protecting my crotch.

And when I touched around that area I found something quite lacking.

"Oh no! This isn't happening!" I cursed as I pulled my helmet off and used it as a makeshift mirror, dimly aware of a long braid of hair tumbling free.

When I saw the face looking back at me, I let out a shriek that resounded among the trees and fainted for the second time in as many hours.

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 **Chapter 2**

I was a small child growing up in Dragonstone.

I sat and listened as my teachers talked about the glory of Valyria and our family's ancient heritage. I played with my sister and brother. I learned to fight with the sword alongside my brother.

I remember meeting our half brother and having a crush on him. He was the only one who would seriously fight with me in the practice yard. All others, even my real brother, were afraid of injuring me to fight me properly.

I swear I actually felt each blow of the swords clashing reverberating through my arms. I actually smelled the sweat and heard the grunts.

Sometimes I was watching from above as Visenya went through her life.

And sometimes I was her as we both lived together.

I loved with her when she got married to her brother and sister.

I wept with her when her sister died in Dorne.

I remembered the pain of childbirth.

I remembered how proud I was of my son.

I remembered being devastated when Aegon died.

I remembered the succession.

I remembered my own death.

"Quite the life I lived, no?" The voice came from right next to me and had me spinning around to face a grinning woman that I now knew to be Visenya Targaryen.

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I glared at Visenya.

She smirked back.

"I'm scarred for life! Traumatized! Ruined!" I waved my arms in her face. "This shit was not what I signed up for!"

"Don't look at me, I'm just the result of your bad decision making," Visenya said. "And you really should have thought of this before making a deal with an eldritch abomination. Did you think he made that offer all out of the goodness of his heart? This is all on you."

"I never agreed to this!" I ranted.

"You agreed to be changed so you can be a dragonrider," Visenya Pointed out. "So naturally your body was changed into mine and given all the memories and skills I had acquired during my considerable life."

"Oh shut up," I grumbled. I was in no mood to be reasonable. "Who are you anyways? Are you really Visenya Targaryen? Did that bastard actually resurrect you from the dead?"

"Maybe I am," Visenya said. "Or maybe I'm the sum total of her memories and emotions collected together and given semi sentience by your psyche? Maybe I'm an alternative personality that formed when the new memories entered your mind? Perhaps it was a coping mechanism?"

"Okay, now I know that you're not Visenya," I said. "A woman in a low tech, minimal education society will not be spouting psychobabble like that."

"Who knows what I really am," Visenya said. "The important part is that I'm here to stay-"

"Fuck my life."

"-And you should be thankful!" Visenya continued. "For example. Did you even know how to remove your armor?"

I had to admit I did not.

"And do you know how to do it now?"

I thought about it and….. I suddenly knew. I knew how put on armor and remove it. I also knew how to use a sword. I knew….. a lot of things I didn't know before.

Visenya was grinning at me. "You won't last a day without any of this knowledge. And you can thank my tits for giving it to you."

"I would have preferred the knowledge without the tits," I grumbled.

"Tough," Visenya waved an airy hand. "You have to get used to it son, cause this is your life now. There are no take backs in this sort of bargain."

"Shit." I put my head in my hands.

"Yes, you really should have thought things through," Visenya said. "Now suck it up!"

"You're telling me to make the best of it," I grumbled.

"You simply do not have a choice," Visenya said. "Look at yourself!"

At her words, there was suddenly a mirror in front of me, and I could see myself fully.

I took one long look, from the bottom to the top, as if afraid of looking again. My legs are long and toned by exercise, and looking at them I felt like I could run and fight all day and night. My hips curved out to my waist, my body being curvy, as well as athletic. Looking upwards, I touched my stomach, and felt the tight muscles there, covered by my tunic that had the three headed dragon stitched upon it, black on red. My breasts are fairly large, the outline clearly visible through the tunic.

I felt my heart beating as I finally mustered the courage to look at my face. My features are strong, aristocratic, beautiful, though some would call it a cold or harsh beauty. My eyes are a piercing, deep hue of purple, and are framed by light-colored eyebrows. The hair that I look at is not the color I was used to, but instead shining silver, and bound in a long, silky braid.

I looked identical to Visenya. Right down to the sword and cloths. Right down to the threads of hair coming loose from her/my braid. I hesitantly reached out to touch my face and the reflection me did the same.

"Oh god," I whispered. It all sank home in that moment. "This is me."

"Yes, yes. And there is also something you really should be doing the moment you get back if you are going to keep being you and not dead. Remember?" Visenya prompted me.

"What?" I couldn't think of anything. "Find Daemon?"

"No. Something about Vhagar?" Visenya prompted.

"I can't think-"

"-You need to bond with her," Visenya spoke over me.

"Oh," I said. Now that she mentioned it, I remembered a ritual. A sacrifice. A sorcerous bond between rider and dragon. Blood and fire. "I remember."

"Good. You want to do that before anything else," Visenya advised. "That will make you a dragonrider in truth. And that will only help you in the battles to come."

"I've never fought in any battles and I have no idea…." But even as I said the words memories came to me. Flying atop Vhagar. Diving down from the clouds at the Arryn fleet. Screams, fire, blood. "Fire and Blood." I whispered. How very appropriate.

"Yes," Visenya said. "So put your big girl panties on and get cracking. Both our survival depends on it."

"Fuck you," I snapped. "I just lost my John Thomas and ended up in a crapsack fantasy world! I need time to get my head on straight!"

"So buy a fucking strapon!" Visenya snapped back. "And wake up!"

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I woke up for the second time to find myself laying in the dirt road.

I cursed, groaned, and hauled myself to my feet and started to slap away the dirt that had gotten into my armor and cloak before bending down to pick up my helmet.

That was another thing.

You couldn't properly bend at the waist when wearing a breastplate. You had to kneel and incline your whole upper body forward.

As I straightened with the helmet tucked under my arm, I was distracted by the sounds of whimpering.

I looked beside me to see that Vhagar had forced the poor mule cart man to back up against a tree and was baring her teeth at the poor man. The cart itself was overturned in the middle of the road and the mule was nowhere to be found.

"Please Your Grace!" He bleated when he saw me up. "Don't let the beast eat me! I'm loyal! I'm faithful! I follow the Seven dutifully!"

"Oh stop that," I snapped at him. "Right now I'm too busy worrying about myself to properly consider your situation." But I walked up to Vhagar and slowly laid a hand on her neck and rubbed gently. At my silent soothing gesture she pulled back and went back to poking at the overturned wagon with her snout.

The poor man let out a shuddering breath of relief and slumped down and ended up sitting on his ass in the dirt with has back against the tree.

I suppose I could understand his reaction. He had just come face to face with a dragon. But oddly I was not afraid of Vhagar. She was the only thing about this situation that I liked.

"I have questions," I said. "And you will answer."

"Yes Your Grace!" He said.

"I'm not a….oh forget it," I snapped. "Who is the king of the Seven Kingdoms?"

"King Daeron Your Grace." He said promptly

I frowned. "Which Dearon? And what year is it."

"It's Daeron the Second Your Grace. And I'm sorry Your Grace. I don't know the year Your Grace." He really was quite helpful.

"Thank you," I said. "I didn't expect a… cart driver to know that last part." Not in a world where commoners were denied education.

"Thank you Your Grace." He was a proper peasant all right.

"How far are we from King's Landing?" That was the important question.

"Not far Your Grace. I was headed there myself," He indicated the upturned cart. "Only about two days travel."

"Oh. I see," I said. Already making plans. "What were you taking to the capital?" I asked absently.

"Leather Your Grace. There'll be a good many folk wanting it when the tourney starts after the wedding." Well that would be a prime commodity during a tournament.

I blinked. "What wedding?"

"The wedding of Ser Blackfyre Your Grace. It's on the morrow."

"WHAT?"

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 **Chapter 3**

It was early morning the next day and I was adding the final touches to my saddle.

One of Visenya's strengths was that she knew her way around the Seven Kingdoms very well.

During and after the conquest, she had flown all over the Kingdoms except for the North. She had even crossed the Narrow Sea and visited the three daughters during the time Volantis tried to rebuild the freehold.

So she knew exactly how far the capital was. And she knew how to get there while keeping the dragon fresh.

And because she knew, I knew.

It had taken a day to finish the bonding ritual that gave me a magical bond with Vhagar, which meant that Daemon was getting married today. I had only a few hours to get his ass out before shit went south.

Because I had the sneaking suspicion that this kid will do something stupid if he looses his lady love.

Especially now that he knew what was in store for him.

So I had prioritized this one objective above all others.

Originally I would have approached the city in disguise and contacted Daemon discreetly. But not I had to improvise.

With a final yank I finished securing the leather contraption to Vhagar's neck and and gave it an experimental tug. It wasn't a proper saddle but it will have to do.

"Well Pate," I turned to the poor cart man. "Thank you for everything. And I'm truly sorry about the leather." I had cannibalized his product to make my saddle. "I swear if I meet you again I'll make it up to you. But right now I have to stop a lovesick kid from fucking over his life and others."

"It was my pleasure Your Grace." I'm fairly certain he was lying on account of not wanting to fuck with nobility. Still I smiled gratefully and turned to face Vhagar.

Okay.

This was the moment of truth.

Time to do the deed.

Actually mount the dragon.

Time to prove to myself and the world that I have the chops to make it in this world.

" _Oh get on with it!"_ Visenya's voice snapped in my head.

"Shut up you fucking hallucination!" That was something else I had acquired. A voice of a dead woman in my head.

" _A dead queen! Now mount the dragon or run and hide under the bed!_ " Visenya was also a bitch.

I sighed.

There really was no other option.

Vhagar had even obligingly lowered her head for me.

I gripped the giant beasts head spikes with both hands, put one foot in the stirrup of my newly made saddle, and lifted myself onto the neck of my dragon. Once there I used more leather cords to tie myself to the saddle.

When you are atop a flying beast whose top speed might exceed that of a horse by a wide margin, you cant be too careful.

A single pat of Vhagar's head had her lifting her giant head above ground level, and with a sudden lurch I was looking at the ground from a long long way up.

"Fuck my life!" I whispered.

" _Pussy!_ " Visenya sneered.

"I think I might have a fear of heights," I said as I gripped Vhagar's head spikes with both my hands in a death grip and squeezed her neck as hard as I could between my legs. "Or maybe a fear of dragon induced heights."

" _Well do try not to piss yourself,_ " Visenya sighed. " _And you_ _might_ _also want to fly_. _Time is a wasting_."

"Oh god!" I moaned. "Why did I ever agree to this?" Down below, poor Pate was peeking out from behind a tree. A very sensible move all told.

Eventually however, I clenched my teeth and seized my courage in both hands. "No help for it," I looked down at Vhagar. "Vhagar…. Sōvegon!"

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"Whoohoo!" I cheered.

I took back everything I ever said about flying on dragonback and being afraid of heights.

Because this was the best feeling in the entire world.

The forest flashed past beneath me and the wind whipped past my face.

"I love my life!" I roared.

" _I told you!_ " Visenya was too smug.

Ahead of us I could see the end of the forest and beyond that, the outline of a city.

It had taken less than an hour to reach the end of the forest. Then it was a short flight to the city itself.

" _You have to stay out of sight!_ " Visenya said. " _Gain more height!_ "

"Good plan," I said. Than then, "Vhagar! Hepnon!"

The great dragon flapped her wings, gaining more and more height. Soon enough we were both well above the ground. So much so that the trees below looked the size of child's toys.

I knew that if you tried to go this high normally without an airplane around you, you will freeze to death. But Vhagar was warm. Warm like a furnace, and she kept _me_ warm. Maybe that was another quirk of being dragon blooded. They were the only ones who could ride a dragon without getting their behinds roasted or freezing to death in high altitude.

Then the trees gave way to farmland, and then they gave way to the great river that was the Blackwater.

And beyond the river there was King's Landing.

"What a…. mess." The city below was a hodgepodge of buildings made without rhyme or reason. A few landmarks were visible, like the great Red Keep and what must obviously be the Sept of Baelor. But beyond that it was just chaos. "What were you smoking when you designed this?"

" _You try to conquer a continent and then build a city as well!_ " Visenya snapped.

"You are Valyrian! You're supposed to be great architects!" I kept an eye on the city below as we flew over the city walls. Still no sign of an alarm being raised. I guess people don't look up.

" _Not every Valyrian has the same skillset! And where is that brat anyway?_ " Visenya sounded almost petulant.

"I cant't see from up here," I said. "We need to go lower." At my command, the huge dragon dived, and I could see the city below me become more detailed. Hovels and little streets. Ramparts and the tiny figures of guards walking along them.

I also saw a procession of sorts heading up to the Sept of Baelor, the head of the procession already at the steps to the great sept. People were lining the streets, cheering. Well now I knew why no one noticed me.

"Oh fuck!" I groaned. "That has got to be the wedding party."

" _So it would seem_." Visenya said.

At my command, Vhagar tucked her wings in and dived towards the ground like a bullet.

When she came almost to the ground she opened her wings again, and with a sound like a gunshot, came to an almost full halt before landing on the ground before the wedding procession with a thud that actually made the earth shake. The blast of air from when her wings had broken her fall spread over the crowd like a shock wave, blowing out candles and tossing hats into the air.

"Dracarys!"

Vhagar painted the sky green with her flames. The green wave washing over the heads of the crowd like a wave of the sea dashing against the beach.

There was a moment of silence.

Then the screaming started and anyone with any sense started running.

In the middle of the chaos I turned to one of the few groups that hadn't run, protected by some very conspicuous men in pure white armor, and found my target among them.

"Daemon! Peanut Butter!"

+page break+

 **Chapter 4**

There was stunned silence for a moment.

Then Daemon shouted above the din, "What?"

"I said PEANUT BUTTER! Did I stutter?" I yelled while keeping an eye on the dozens of knights going for their swords.

"But? But you're? You have..." He was babbling.

"Don't fucking go there! I repeat myself. Peanut. Butter." Now the Kingsguard were starting to advance. Why couldn't they flee in terror like normal people?

Fortunately, Daemon shook himself out of his stupor and ran forwards while drawing his sword. He shoulder slammed one white knight and darted past him, but was blocked by another, and Daemon actually brought his sword up and attacked the Kingsguard!

The white knight blocked Daemon and counter attacked, and suddenly there was a duel going on before us.

"Ah shit," I cursed. "This wasn't how it was supposed to go."

" _Well fucking fix it!_ " Visenya yelled in my head.

I started to yank the saddle bindings at my waist away, intent on leaping down and helping.

" _That'll get you killed you fool!_ " Visenya screeched. " _Think of something else!_ "

I cursed and stopped pulling at my saddle and looked around. The situation was getting worse.

Even as I watched, Daemon was being driven back by the Kingsguard he was fighting, but then a beautiful lady with silver blonde hair ran forward and hit the Kingsguard knight over the head with a…..dragon egg?

The kingsguard knight stumbled and Daemon used the opportunity to ring his head a second time with his sword.

The knight collapsed.

That still left six knights and hundreds of rapidly assembling goldcloaks.

"Archers! Archers!" One of the lords was shouting.

Fuck! Shit was going south fast. I had to do something. I desperately cast my gaze over the crowd and spotted a rather unassuming man wearing red and black. But he was wearing a crown.

The king.

Daeron the Second.

I knew what I had to do.

"Vhagar! There! Go!" I pointed and the great dragon stalked forward.

Her advance scattered men like leaves and I sincerely hoped that no one was trampled underfoot. Vhagar reached the king in less than five seconds and loomed over him.

The king stumbled back and promptly fell back on his royal ass.

Vhagar got in his face and roared.

"Good Girl!" I patted the dragon's giant head. Then-

\- "HALT!" I roared at the top of my voice. "Or the king dies!" Vhagar roared immediately afterwards in perfect accompaniment to my threat.

Everything stopped.

For a long moment, there was utter silence as the scene before me froze as everyone turned and stared at the king who was inches from the jaws of a dragon.

"If you kill the king," One of the Kingsguard began. "We will hunt you to the ends of the earth."

"And I can reach the ends of the earth on dragonback," I snapped back. "Now put away your weapons or…..." Vhagar growled again.

"-Put the swords away," One of the Lords commanded.

"But Your Grace-" The knight began.

"-Now!" The prince? Commanded again, and this time he was obeyed.

All around me weapons were returned to sheaths and bows were put away.

"Good. Now, Daemon? Do you mind?" At my call, Daemon sheathed his sword and trotted forward.

"No!" That was a pretty brown skinned girl in a eye wateringly colorful dress. "My Love! My Prince! You can't take him from me!" She actually started to dart forward, but a man in an almost equally colorful dress and blue hair caught her.

The fuck?

Daemon reached me and turned to face her. "I don't want to marry you! I don't love you!" He yelled back. "I never did!"

The girl burst into tears.

I made a wild guess that this was Daemon's betrothed. Rohanne the baby maker.

Still that kind of manners can't be excused.

I whacked Daemon on the back of his head. "Stop that! And get on!"

I leaned down and pulled the kid up onto my saddle. After struggling for a moment he cooperated and jumped into Vhagar's back and ended up behind me with his arms around my waist.

"Now," I told the still silent crowd. "Thank you for your time. But we have to go."

At that the pretty lady that was guilty of assaulting the kingsguard stepped forwards. "What are you going to do to my son?"

Huh?

"Mother! I want to go with him! Her!" Daemon shouted from behind me.

Huh? This was Daemon's mom? Deana the defiant? Damn.

I looked her up and down.

Baelor the Blessed was a fucking idiot.

" _I fully agree_ ," Visenya giggled.

Out loud I said, "I'm carrying him away to ravish him!"

"Are you mad?" Daemon yelled from behind me almost drowned out by the wails and yells of protest coming from everyone and their donkey.

I sighed. No one got a joke in this backwards world.

"Oh forget it! Sōvegon"

+page break+

King's Landing fell away beneath us as Vhagar climbed higher and higher.

Soon she was well above the range of the best bow. And still she climbed higher.

"I thought you weren't coming!" Daemon yelled from behind me. "I thought it was all a dream."

"I would have come earlier," I yelled back. "But I had to do somethings first! And then there was no way to find you!"

"Thank you!" Daemon yelled. "I had given up hope!"

"My pleasure!" I yelled back.

"Did you see me? I dueled Ser Corbray sword to sword!" He was certainly taking this well.

Wait. Corbray? That Kingsguard was Ser Gwayne Corbray? Heh. That was a name I knew. Daemon had defeated the man in Redgrass Field.

Isn't irony wonderful?

"Your mom took him out," I teased. "All credit goes to her!"

"Oh shut up!" Daemon laughed. "We worked together!"

"Done! Now let me focus on our journey! Concentrate on the fact that we're riding a dragon!" Even as I spoke, we were flying over the walls of the city and back across the blackwater.

Daemon let out an incoherent wail that was both scream and cheer.

Did he have a heart attack? Did he orgasm from just this?

"You okay back there?" I yelled over my shoulder.

"I'm flying on a dragon!" Daemon screamed like a girl. "I'm Aegon the Conqueror!"

" _No you're not!_ " Visenya yelled.

I laughed.

"You're Daemon the twelve year old!" I yelled back.

"I'm three and ten!" Daemon yelled and pinched my elbow.

I laughed again.

+page break+

"Where are we going anyway?" Daemon asked after a while after we had crossed over into the Kingswood. "We're flying south!"

"I have no idea!" I admitted. "We'll land somewhere in the forest and talk about our next move. Deep enough into the forest and they can't find us!"

"The Kingswood is massive," Daemon assured me. "It takes days to reach the deeper parts of the forest with horses. No one can find us there!"

"Good! Now look for a clearing we can land in!"

+page break+

 **Chapter 5**

"We really didn't think this through," I grumbled as we sat in a clearing in the forest.

The clearing was large enough to contain the giant form of Vhagar. And the giant dragon was currently snoozing in the sun. She seems to have gone from dog to cat after we came to the forest.

"How do you mean…..friend?" Daemon was sitting with his back against a tree with Blackfyre laying on the ground next to him.

I gritted my teeth. "I went and got you from King's Landing. But I didn't get anything else." I waved my arm to indicate the nature all around us. "We're in a forest and we have nothing to help us survive. We have nothing to hunt with. Nothing to boil water with. No tents. We don't even have a knife between us."

"We have our swords!" Daemon protested. "Two Valyrian steel swords. And we have a dragon."

"You can't skin a deer or a rabbit with a long sword. And we can't use Vhagar to start a fire without setting the forest ablaze. As for hunting, well. We'd be shit out of luck." I walked over and sat down next to Daemon and put my back to the tree.

I was only wearing my boots, leather pants and crimson tunic. I had finally taken my armor off and it now lay in a pile nearby. My memories assured me that Valyrian steel didn't need the same care as normal metal, and could be just left laying around and still not rust or scratch. And Visenya assured me that dragons have excellent hearing. No one would be able to sneak up on us without Vhagar, and through her me, knowing.

"I'm sorry," Daemon said. "This is happening because you came to help me. If you had moved more slowly then this would not have happened." And he did look appropriately hangdog.

"Hey now," I said and patted his shoulder. "You're my only friend in this world. I had to come and check on you."

"And for that I thank you," Deamon said again. "You are my friend too. A very good friend who faced down a king for me. And I'm sorry about…." He indicated my new look.

"Daemon," I said slowly. "We are dealing with that issue later."

"But-"

"-We are dealing with it later! Much later! Savvy?" I glared at him. Behind us Vhagar rumbled.

Daemon deflated. "Very well. But then what should our next action be? We fled the capital. You attacked the king and I attacked a kingsguard. There will be a warrant out for us."

I considered it. There was so much to do. Stop the rebellion. Prepare for the zombie invasion. Hook Daemon up with his lady love.

No….. thinking like that won't work. I have to approach it as a to-do list. Do the easy things first. And do only one step at the time.

So the first step?

"We need to find a village. Or if not that, a keep," I said. "We need supplies and we're not equipped to stay here long term."

"We can buy supplies. I have gold," Daemon said and gave his purse a jingle. "But it might be best to go to a keep. We can get better goods there, and also see how bad it is. And from there we can make plans."

"And when they try to arrest us?" I asked blandly.

"Then," Daemon pointed at Vhagar.

I laughed. "Yes, that'll work. Okay Daemon. You're the one with contemporary knowledge. Where to go?"

Daemon only needed a moment to think. "Felwood. Unless you fly atop a dragon, you will have to cross the entire Kingswood to get there. Even if the lord of that keep informs the court, they can't reach us for weeks. And Felwood is a small keep. They won't defy a dragonrider."

"Good reasoning," I approved even if I didn't know the castle he talked about. "You can guide me there?" Daemon nodded. "Then lets go."

"One more thing," Daemon hesitated. "What do we call you when we get there? You need a name to use."

"I…," I hesitated. What was my name? Who was I? Really? There was no using my old name. Not looking like this. But could I just call myself Visenya? That wasn't who I was either.

In the back of my mind, Visenya snickered.

"….. Oh fuck it!" I gave up in the end. "Call me Visenya. Might as well scare the children right and proper."

" _I live once more!_ " Visenya gave a new meaning to the word sarcastic.

"Arrgghh!" I shook my head. "Help me with my armor Daemon?"

+page break+

The seat of House Fell was a tiny castle just barely out of the Kingswood. The forest came up almost to the northern wall of the castle and on the south side, a small peasant village came almost up to the front gate.

A dry moat surrounded the walls. And the castle itself was made up of a large courtyard surrounded by five stone towers, one of which doubled as the gatehouse.

Our arrival caused the entire population of both the castle and the village to come running outside, and we had an audience of hundreds as we flew over both the castle and the village and landed in the open field in front of the village.

We dismounted and by agreement, waited patiently until the denizens of the castle came to us.

No need to cause undue panic after all.

Sure enough, we didn't have to wait long before the lord of the castle and a couple of guards came galloping up on horses. Only to dismount as they got close.

Lord Fell was a man approaching middle age. His hair was going gray and his face was starting to show lines. But in a society where martial prowess was prized he might still be in good shape.

He also seemed to know Daemon.

"Ser Daemon," He greeted cautiously. His eyes firmly on the giant dragon in the living room. "I was not aware that House Targaryen has regained their dragons."

"It's quite recent Lord Fell," Daemon smiled pleasantly at him. "And because of this we find ourselves in need to shelter in your keep. Only for a few days."

"Of course. Of course," Lord Fell said. "I haven't met your… companion before."

I felt his eyes register the dragon on my helmet. The three headed dragon on my breastplate. The sword at my side. He was clearly trying to place me.

"This is the Lady Visenya," Daemon introduced. "She is a dragonrider and my….." He paused.

"…..Sister." I finished for him.

Lord Fell looked between us. "I wasn't aware that Ser Daemon had a sister."

"We're half siblings, but we consider ourselves fully brother and sister," I said and Daemon nodded along. "Even though we only share a father."

"I see," Lord Fell looked at me closely. He could hardly deny the Targaryen features I had. "I had not heard of you before milady."

I wanted to punch him in the face for calling me milady. But I _said_ , "I was in Essos for a long time. Almost all my life."

"I see," Lord Fell said again before smiling. "In any case, be welcome in my keep. You shall have bread and salt. And you are welcome to stay as long as you like!"

I grinned.

Minor quest, achieved.

+page break+

 **Chapter 6**

It's amazing what a hot bath and a proper meal will do to you, especially when your dirt caked cloths and armor has been washed, dried and scrubbed on top of it.

That and a good nights sleep in a proper bed.

I was feeling much more relaxed and able to think clearly.

" _A miracle_ ," Visenya put in.

"Shut up," I muttered.

Daemon and I were with Vhagar, a little ways into the kingswood, well away from any prying eyes or ears.

The giant dragon was ahead of us, helping herself to a deer carcass.

I had been worried about how to feed her, but apparently she could solve that problem on her own.

"It's a miracle of the gods," Daemon was really turning into a draconic fanboy.

Then again, maybe that's a Targaryen thing.

"You can ogle the dragon later," I told him. "For now we need to talk."

"Yes, Yes." Daemon said. "What should our next move be?"

I gaped. "You're asking me?"

"Well you are the one sent by a god to save us," Daemon looked at the ground. "And I truly have not given any thought to what to do in a situation like this."

"He's not a….. oh forget it," I sighed and shook my head. "Tell me, can we resolve this peacefully with the king? We can offer him a dragon right now, and more dragons later."

"Normally yes," Daemon wouldn't look at me. "But you attacked a blood royal, threatened to feed him to your dragon. If…. If you attack a king-"

"-You loose a hand at the least." I finished for him.

"Yes," Daemon winced. "The king can't forgive this either. It was done before thousands of people."

" _He's right,_ " Visenya added just to be unhelpful.

"And," Daemon hesitated. "You said you were going to ravish me. That wasn't a good idea. Now they will brand you a criminal of the worst sort."

"It was a joke!" I yelled. Vhagar growled behind us.

"If I may," Daemon said, still hesitant. "There is a time and place for jokes. And that wasn't it."

I groaned and put my face in my hands. "So I have well and truly fucked us."

"Not completely," Damon said. "You just closed one door."

"So now what are our options?" I asked. "Please tell me we have options other than sending the whole continent into war?"

"We might?" He said. "We can cross the sea into Essos?"

"And then what about our mission?" I asked. "We have to prepare for the Night King. We can't do it from Essos. What about your Dany? Daeron might have married her off by the time we get back."

"We can gather forces in Essos and then come back and force Daeron to submit," Daemon said.

I remembered how well that worked for the Blackfyres in the other timeline. I remembered how well that worked for Viserys.

"No that won't work," I said. "We need to do it here." I thought about it. "We can continue as we have actually. Deal with the problems one at a time. What do we need right now?"

"We need to be safe from my half-brothers knights," Daemon said promptly.

"So how do we do this?" I asked.

"We need to be beyond his reach or we need an army," Daemon said. "Nothing less will even give the king pause."

"Beyond his reach," I wondered. "So…. A castle that is quite inaccessible? Like the Eyrie? Or Dragonstone?"

Daemon hesitated. "That might work. But we will be under siege. And one castle can't hold out against the whole of Westeros, not unless you burn army after army."

I shuddered. "No, we need to avoid bloodshed. Not cause it."

"Fleeing and gathering strength is the best option," Daemon said again.

I thought about it. I seriously did. But I knew how important momentum was in war and politics. We had to act now. I just needed to think.

The only way to force a king of the Seven Kingdoms into compliance was to force him to surrender. And….. I really couldn't think of a peaceful way to do that now. Not without fleeing Westeros. And that was off the table.

We really don't need to piss off the whatever it was that sent us here either. God or no.

" _At least you have some sense_ ," Visenya put in.

Dammit! This is going to end with a rebellion no matter which way you slice it.

We have to stay in Westeros, and if we stay in Westeros, then we'll be hunted. And eventually we're going to have to defend ourselves. Then people will die in dragonfire, and we'll be rebels.

" _Sound reasoning,_ " Visenya said, agreeing with me.

So how to avoid it?

I explained my reasoning to Daemon, and he thought about it.

"I can think of only one path to avoid this," He said seriously. "Even if we make peace now, you told me that in eight years I will rebel, and I may have been pushed into it. So we will never have peace so long as Daeron rules." I could agree with that reasoning. "So if we're to ever have peace, I have to claim the throne."

"Fuck!" I could only summon up that one word.

The Blackfyre Rebellion was happening despite everything.

" _This is your doing,_ " Visenya crowed.

"FUCK!"

+page break+

Sometime later, Daemon was making friends with Vhagar while I was pacing and thinking.

Westeros was conquered successfully twice. During the conquest by Aegon, and during the rebellion by Robert.

Aegon did it by leveraging his dragons and his frankly brilliant strategy. Robert did it by virtue of Jon Arryn forming careful marriage alliances with the Lords Paramount that united four kingdoms against the other three.

I assume that if the two of us married the heirs of two Lord Paramounts….my stomach heaved. No. Not going there.

In the back of my mind, Visenya snickered.

Besides, I rationalized. Daeron has more Targaryens with him right now than I do. Baelor and Maekor can be married off. Daena and her sister Eleana can also be married off. If we give him time, then he can forge marriage alliances with half the Lords Paramount in a stroke.

And if that happens, dragon or no dragon, we'll loose. The only option will be surrender.

And if we surrender… I really didn't want to think what Daeron would do.

And what's worse. I suddenly remembered. Daeron has hostages.

Dany, Daemon's love. And Daena, Daemon's mom.

What will he do if they are threatened?

Will he surrender? Will he turn on me?

All of this meant option B. Securing dragonstone first and then going all Aegon Dragonlord on Westeros. A lighting campaign, giving no time for anyone to organize a counter attack.

" _You know which one has my vote!_ " No one wants your opinion Visenya.

Still, that would mean a lot of blood and death.

The conquest had the Field of Fire. Five thousand men burned before Westeros got the message.

I shuddered.

" _There will be blood before this is over,_ " Visenya said. " _This world is cruel._ "

I knew that too.

Fighting was unavoidable in this scenario. But I could keep the fighting to a minimum. Keep the body count low.

It might stupid, but there has to be a way.

I thought about it.

How can we keep the king off balance? How do we keep him from having us killed or worse? And how do we resolve this situation?

We have to do the unexpected. Keep the element of surprise and maintain momentum.

What is the last thing he is expecting us to do?

Then the answer came to me.

He isn't expecting us to come back to the capital.

Could it work? A surgical strike at the very heart of Targaryen power?

As Horus Lupercal once said, the spear thrust.

Or as Grand Admiral Thrawn would say, a preemptive strike.

It had even been done once before in Westeros. When The real queen Visenya and her son Maegor took the throne.

Fuck me. It would, in theory limit the damage to a single city.

It could work.

" _It will work,_ " Visenya said. " _I will help you!_ _He who dares….._ "

Fuck me.

If it works, we have a kingdom. If it doesn't work, we're dead.

An all or nothing gamble.

"Daemon," I called out. "I might have a plan."

+page break+

"I never thought to ask you," Daemon said later as we were leaving the forest. "How are you comfortable with?" He indicated my new….look.

I shuddered. "I'm trying very hard not to think about it. Let's just get this done, and then we'll move onto me and my…..issues."

"Very well," Daemon looked genuinely concerned. "If, if there is anything I can do. Even if I can only comfort you. You only have to ask."

I laughed. "Be careful about telling girls that you'll comfort them, but thank you." I reached out and clapped him on the back.

He grinned back at me. "It's my duty. You're my sister now no?"

"I suppose I am," I grinned back.

He was good at cheering people up, our Daemon.

" _Remember what we Targaryens do with sisters,_ " Visenya piped up.

Shut up.

As it happened, as we were walking towards the keep, the young son of Lord Fell, Thurgood Fell, came running towards us. He was a squire, a year younger than Daemon, and blushed silly whenever he looked at me.

Visenya found it hilarious.

I found it maddening.

"Milady! Ser!" Thurgood called out at we came into sight. "There was a raven, my lord father wants to speak with you both."

We exchanged a look.

Looks like it's starting.

"It's fine Thurgood," I said. "We were on our way to speak with him anyway."

+page break+

When we got back to the castle, Lord Fell was waiting for us, along with his maester, his wife, and his other son.

"Ser Daemon, milady," He looked uncomfortable. "A raven arrived from King's Landing and..." He trailed off.

"I can guess at the contents my lord," I said. "Does he want us killed or arrested?"

"Well," He paused.

"Just tell us," I sighed.

"The king is accusing you of kidnapping Ser Daemon with…. With nefarious intent." He actually cringed.

Fuuuuck!

" _Time and place for jokes,_ " Visenya put in.

"A misunderstanding I'm sure," Daemon heroically came to the rescue. "We will go to King's Landing at once and clear up this matter." Oh will we ever. "On that matter, do you have armor I can wear for the journey? I might have need of it and I swear I will return it with all speed once we are done with the king."

Lord Fell thought about it. He looked at me, he looked at Vhagar. He looked at his family.

Then he opened his mouth.

"You can have the set I had made for my son when he is knighted, I hope it serves you well."

Here we go.

+page break+

 **Interlude**

"My son might be being ravished as we speak! We have to save him!" Daena Targaryen yelled at the king.

They were in the Red Keep and meeting in the small council chambers. The king, his small council, and several other royals were present and seated around the great table. Most of them, like Daena, were here because they had a vested interest in the situation.

"I don't think he'll be complaining much with that woman," Someone said, and quickly shut up as Daena glared at him.

"I swear to you Your Grace, we will rescue the gallant Ser Daemon!" Prince Baelor proclaimed.

"We must remember that Ser Daemon went with her willingly," The hand of the king, Lord Butterwell said. "This might not be a kidnapping. He fought the kingsguard! Ser Corbray was insensate for a day!"

Daena winced. Her own part in that duel had been hand waved, and she had recived no punishment other than confinement in her quarters. But she could see the judgment in the eyes of everyone around her. She refused to relent however, her son had been in danger.

"She must have used sorcery to enthrall the poor boy!" That was Lord Addam Velaryon, the master of ships. "She must be a sorceress from across the sea! How else does she have a dragon? Or has the ability to carry away a gallant knight with just her words?"

"Peace!" King Daeron called. "We need to take action, but we must not loose ourselves to baseless speculation. This woman, whoever she is, attacked me, a king, and took my half brother away while openly proclaiming intent to….." He glanced at Daena. "Ravish him. She disrupted a wedding we were holding to forge an alliance with Tyrosh, and did irreparable damage. She will be brought to justice."

"We need to find her first," Daena snapped. "And they could be anywhere. In her own words, she can reach the end of the world on dragonback."

"That works both ways," Daeron said. "A dragon is not easy to hide. And wherever she goes she will be noticed."

"We have sent ravens to all corners of the realm," Lord Butterwell assured her. "She cannot hide anywhere in the Seven Kingdoms. We need only wait until she is found."

"And when we do find her?" Lord Tyrell asked. He had been visiting, come for the wedding, and had stayed to help with the aftermath. "She has a dragon who looked like the black dread reborn. You will need an army to take her, and even then you'd best get lucky."

"We will find a way," The king said. "She can't hide forever. And even dragons can fall."

"All of this is of no use," Prince Baelor said. "We can do nothing unless we find her. That should be our first task."

"I agree," Daeron said. "We need to find her before all else."

"And when we find her?" Lord Tyrell asked again. They all looked at him.

"What is your meaning?" Daeron asked.

"She is a dragon rider, and she looks obviously Targaryen," Lord Tyrell plowed on. "I cannot be the only one to consider the possibility that she is one of the late kings natural children, and one who found and tamed a dragon?"

There was silence.

At last, Deana hesitantly spoke up. "She looked Targaryen. And she is a dragonrider. It might well be true."

"If she is, then His Grace might be wise to resolve this peacefully.," Lord Velaryon said reluctantly. "If she can be brought into the fold peacefully, perhaps with a pardon, then the realm gains a dragondrider."

Daena could see the faces around her changing slowly. The Targaryens, Baelor and Daeron, were tempted. Even Velaryon was supporting the idea.

Daena had to admit that she herself wanted this. If the woman hadn't taken her son, then she herself might have been tempted.

"She carried off my son!" She reminded them. "She is no friend of ours."

"Yes Your Grace," Lord Tyrell said. "But that might have been a… misunderstanding. Ser Daemon said quite openly that he didn't wish to marry. And this may have been arranged. But regardless, we must first approach the pair with peace, not swords."

Daena thought about it. It could be. Her boy had said several times that he didn't want this match. But where would he have met the woman, and how could they have hid the dragon? A dragon that size?

"It...It could be," She allowed.

"She attacked the king!" Lord Butterwell insisted. "That is not something we can pardon. Not when she threatened to kill His Grace."

"I will say this again," Prince Baelor said loudly. "All of this is pointless until we find her and Ser Daemon!"

At that very moment, a kingsguard knight rushed into the chamber, his white cloak bellowing and armor making an awful ruckus.

Daena winced anew when she saw that it was Ser Corbray.

"Your Grace!" The knight yelled. "They're back. The dragon is back!"

Dead silence.

Then everyone started shouting.

"What? Where?" Daeron demanded the loudest.

"In the courtyard." Her heart stopped.

"My son? What of my son?" Daena demanded loudly over the king.

"They're together Your Grace," Ser Corbray said. "And they're demanding to see the king."

+page break+

They all spilled into the courtyard, with Daeron and the kingsguard leading the way.

As Daena emerged from the shadow of Meagor's Holdfast, where the small council had met, she saw once more the sight of the giant green dragon. It towered over all of them, majestic, awe inspiring. Her family's legacy.

And her son was there too, standing before the dragon in full armor, with Blackfyre belted at his waist.

Next to him stood...the woman, wearing armor she was fairly sure was made out of Valyrian steel with the three headed dragon of House Targaryen craved into the breastplate. Her helmet had another dragon worked as the crest, all cast in Valyrian steel. There was also a sword belted at her waist, with a hilt encrusted with rubies poking out of the scabbard.

Now that Daena saw her up close, she could see the purple eyes and the delicate features. This woman looked suspiciously Targaryen.

"Daeron Targaryen!" Her son called out. "I declare you illegitimate and a vile criminal unworthy of the Iron Throne! I demand you lay down your crown and confess to your foul deeds!"

What?

+page break+

 **Chapter 7**

It was pandemonium.

Everyone was shouting. And everyone was talking at once.

Vhagar roared.

"SILENCE!" I shouted in accompanyment.

There was silence.

"Now, King Daeron. What say you to the accusations levied against you?" I demanded.

I had stepped back and had let the Visenya part of me more or less run this show. I gave her the skeleton of the plan, she sent me the memories that I could draw upon to put on a convincing performance.

To his credit, Daeron rallied quickly. "I deny them. I am the legitimate child of King Aegon. And you are committing treason for the second time in as many days by accusing me of such!"

"You lie, pretender!" I yelled. "I have heard it from the mouth of the late king himself that you are not his. And what's more you have conspired to have his other natural children killed!"

Hey, Robert's Rebellion was launched on a lie. And it succeeded. So why not this one? Especially when the lie was impossible to catch.

"Silence!" That was a lord with a small beard. "You do not accuse the king of such crimes and suffer no consequences! Kingsguard! Arrest her!"

The white knights drew their swords and stepped forwards.

Vhagar roared again.

Deamon stepped up beside me.

"Do you wish your kingsguard killed Daeron?" I yelled. "Tell them to stand down, or they will burn!"

"Arrest her!" The idiot lord roared.

" _Do it!_ " Visenya yelled in my head.

Fuck! I don't want to burn people!

" _Do it you fool! Or we're dead!_ " Visenya screamed.

Oh Fuck! "Dracar-"

"-Stop! Stop!" Dearon yelled. "Kingsguard! Stand down!"

And thankfully, the white knights sheathed their blades.

"Now," Daeron said as he bravely stepped forwards. "What is your accusation? Speak and I will hear you out."

"Let me begin at the beginning," I said. "I am Visenya Targaryen, the natural born daughter of the late king who he later legitimized after I won my dragon." At my words, the ruckus started anew, only to be shouted down by the king. "At our last meeting, he told me in his own words that you are illegitimate and not his lawful son!" The shouting started anew, and was once more quieted by the king. "And not a year ago, there was an attempt on my life that resulted in my mothers death. I traced the assassins to here, to King's Landing. And only one person has good reason to kill the old kings children."

There was more shouting. A lot more shouting.

"You godless _whore,_ " One lord yelled. "You dare make such an accusation against the king!"

I gritted my teeth and remembered his face. He was going on my list.

King Daeron's response however, was different.

"Do you have any proof of these claims?" He asked like a man looking for a way out. He's an intelligent man, he must have seen where this is going.

"Only my word. But!" I yelled as more voices rose in protest. "The gods know the truth! I demand you prove the truth of your claim, and your innocence, before the gods! Upon your body!"

Daeron raised an eyebrow. "You demand trial by combat? Your arrogance knows no bounds!"

"The gods gave me a dragon to put this injustice to rights!" I roared. "And I will use her if you hide like a coward. So choose, Daeron the false king! Face justice like a man! Or condemn your city to fire and blood through your own cowardice!" On cue, Vhagar roared again and thumped her tail on the ground to literally send a small tremor through the ground.

Daeron stepped back and looked around like he wanted to find help among the towers of the Red Keep. But in this situation, there was little he could do.

"I accept," He said at length. "Your champion will face mine. The Lord Commander of the kingsguard will represent me."

I smiled. "Then Vhagar will represent me!"

On cue the yells and protests came.

After a while I spoke up again. "Stop hiding behind a kingsguard and face me yourself Daeron. These are your choices. Fight the trial yourself. Or we will see how your white knights do against a dragon!"

More yells.

"Choose quickly!" I snapped. "Or I will choose for you!"

There were yells. Protests. And pleading. But in the end, Daeron proved himself a man by accepting the challenge.

He shouted down all the protesting voices and spoke up. "I accept. To save my family, and my city, I will face you in battle." More protests. He spoke over them. "All I ask that you give my wife and sons freedom from prosecution."

Now I really felt like a shit doing this to him. "They will be free to leave if I win," I promised him. "And I am not Dornish. When I give safe conduct, I mean it."

"Very well," Daeron took a deep breath. "We will fight."

"We will fight," I agreed. "Within the hour."

+page break+

The fight was to be held before the Great Sept. Before the eyes of the seven.

The high septon had been roused and brought in to act as referee. And Daeron was acting as my squire and support.

Daena the Defiant, Daemon's absolute milf of a mom, was also present.

Whenever I looked at her I got a warm feeling in my belly, and I truly bemoaned my cruel fate.

"You said you were going to ravish my son!" were her first words to me. There went the warmth.

"I could hardly have said that I meant to make him a king now could I?" I asked after taking a drink from a waterskin. A nice safe waterskin brought by us. No poison for me thanks.

Daena glared at me suspiciously. "Why would you give him the crown? Why not take it yourself?"

Because I remember what happened the last time a woman tried to rule this place. Westeros must be eased into it. "Because he's my little brother. And I'm supposed to give him nice things. What is nicer than a crown?"

Daena glared at me.

Daemon snickered.

Daena glared at him.

"Calm down mother," Daemon soothed her. "H… She has only been a friend to me. And I do see her as a sister." Awwww. Isn't that cute?

Daena eventually relented and turned to me. "All this assumes that you don't get yourself killed in the first pass of blades. If that happens then you and my son are both for the block. For he will not be spared after supporting you so openly like this."

"I will try not to loose. Or get myself killed." Or kill him. Hopefully I can force him to yield.

At that moment Daeron approached the chosen battlefield clad in full plate armor and looking dreadfully out of place.

He stepped forwards, leaving his kingsguard behind and moving to the open space before cleared for the duel.

Around us a huge crowd had gathered. Both smallfolk and Lords. This will be a public event, one way or the other.

The high septon stepped forwards and raised both his hands to the heavens.

"This is a trial by battle fought under the eyes of gods and men! Lady…." He paused and looked at me. "Visenya Targaryen accuses King Daeron Targaryen of falsely claiming the Iron Throne while illegitimate! She also accuses him of sending assassins to kill her and her family!" A roar went up from the crowd.

"Gods, this had better work!" Daemon muttered from beside me. I silently thanked him for that vote of confidence.

The high septon continued, ignoring the crowd. "Both accuser and defender have chosen to represent themselves during the trial, and to prove their innocence and guilt upon their body!" More roaring. "Let the trial commence! And may the warrior strengthen the arm of the innocent!"

I let out a deep breath, drew dark sister, and stepped forward.

+page break+

 **Chapter 8**

If I myself had fought Daeron, it would have been like the duel scene in Shakespeare's Twelfth Night when Viola fought Sir Andrew Aguecheek.

With the both of us being useless, we'll end up giving the people watching comic relief and not killing anyone.

But I had a secret weapon. I had multiple personality disorder in the form of Visenya Targaryen.

" _Hey!_ "

With her help, this duel would be like the scene in Shakespeare's Twelfth Night where Sebastian fought Sir Andrew Aguecheek

To make this madness work, I had to let my inner Visenya out. I had to let her personality become dominant and control my actions. I had already noticed this when riding Vhagar and putting on my armor. I just had to do it on a greater level.

Or else we're both for the chopping block.

I gripped Dark Sister in both hands and faced Daeron.

In front of me Dearon was sporting a sword and shield and wearing full plate.

His armor was jet black and chased with gold. And his helm had the three headed dragon molded into a crest. In a bizarre parody of another Targaryen, his breastplate had a three headed dragon made out of blood red rubies.

His shield was a round one with another three headed dragon painted on a black background. It was large enough to cover his upper body but left his legs exposed.

His armor and weapons were normal steel though. While my full panoply was dragon steel.

Now I just needed the combat experience.

Come on Visenya! Don't fuck me now!

" _I here!_ " Visenya came through. " _I'm here for you!_ "

I closed my eyes and let the Visenya part of me rise to the surface. Her memories, her skills, her _life_.

I _remembered_ holding this sword before.

I remembered fighting before.

I remembered training with Aegon.

I remembered training with Orys.

I remembered fighting sword to sword during the conquest.

Suddenly I was no longer afraid.

Suddenly I knew what to do.

I twirled Dark Sister in my hand a couple of times and went into a fighting stance with my feet in what looked like the classic boxing stance and Dark sister held in front of me with the tip aimed at Daeron.

We were frozen like that for a moment, and then Daeron dashed forwards and aimed a cut at my head.

I blocked high with Dark Sister before deflecting his sword and aiming my own thrust at his visor that he raised his shield to block.

The duel was on.

+page break+

Daeron tried to smash his shield in my face.

He did know what he was doing, but I moved backwards and then tried to move to his flank.

This time he was forced to move backwards and to the side to keep his guard up.

He raised his shield up and tried to stab under it at my guts like a roman legionnaire, but I once more moved to his flank and deflected the blade.

This went on for a while.

Him trying to use his shield to his advantage, and me always keeping to his flanks and not fighting him face to face. Our swords clashed and clashed again, causing my Valyrion steel sword to ring against his castle forged steel sword and raise sparks.

After a few passes like this, I decided to change tactics, he was used to me always moving to his flanks when he advanced, so when he next came at me I charged.

I swept his descending sword aside with my own before jumping and kicking the center of his shield.

King Daeron stumbled backwards.

I used the momentum to jump forward again and kicked his shield a second time.

King Daeron fell on his ass.

I used the opportunity to step on his sword hand hard. He screamed and let go of his sword.

Next I kicked his shield away as well before before kneeling on his chest and pulling up the visor of his helm.

"Yield," I said. My blade was on his face. "I don't want to be a kin slayer! Yield!"

Daeron looked at me. Purple eyes staring into my own. His face conveyed so many emotions at that moment. Anger, despair, desperation, hope at my words of not being a kin slayer. He was the king yesterday. A newly made king, and ready to launch his reign. Today a woman comes out of nowhere and takes it from him. He wasn't even a bad man, at least I think he wasn't. He was just in an impossible situation.

I felt desperately guilty. I fucked over his life to cover my own mistake.

I didn't relent though. "Yield!"

There were tears in Daeron's eyes. "I yield." Then louder. "I Yield!"

Then the shouting started.

I felt like a shit.

+page break+

 **End Arc 1**

+page break+

 **Chapter 9**

The coronation of Daemon of House Blackfyre, the first of his name, King of the Andals and the First Men, King of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros and Protector of the Realm, happened two days after the duel.

It had taken a day to take control of the city and calm things down, another day to arrange for the coronation.

The High Septon, himself wearing a crystal crown, put the crown of Daemon's grandfather on his head, anointed with the seven oils, gave him seven blessings calling upon the seven names of god, and proclaimed him king.

And then, just like that, the realm had a new king.

The day after his coronation, the new king held court.

The first order of business was to deal with the former royal family.

+page break+

Daemon was seated on the Iron Throne, dressed in armor at my insistence. A tunic with the black dragon of House Blackfyre covered his torso, and the iconic sword that gave him his name was sheathed at his waist.

I stood to his left, Daena the Milf sat on a smaller chair to his right, and a select group of knights headed by Ser Ball – I couldn't look at that man without wanting to smile- stood in a line before the throne.

Facing the throne was a small army of colorfully dressed nobles of both sexes, standing well away from the line of armed and armored knights.

And in a small space of their own, between Daemon's knights and the nobles, stood the former royal family.

There were six of them overall.

Daeron, Mariah his wife, and the four children.

Of the four children, only Baelor seemed to grasp what was really happening here. The next eldest, Aerys, was barely ten according to Daemon. The others were even younger.

Daeron himself looked to have aged five years in the last day. He looked for all the world like someone who had just given up.

Mariah was making up for it by glaring daggers at us. So long as she didn't try and poison us that was fie by me.

Still, the actors had assembled, and the next part of the mummers farce, as Daemon called it, was about to begin.

I made a gesture, the heralds blew their trumpets, and the court quieted down.

"Daeron!" Daemon's voice boomed across the hall. "In the eyes of gods and men, your claim to the throne has been proven illegitimate and unjust. Therefore, by my word, you are formally stripped of your ranks and titles. You are still a member of House Targaryen, but neither you nor your children will ever be royal."

There was dead silence in the hall. Mariah had finally started to cry, and Daeron looked to be past tears.

"Now all that remains to decide is what to do with you," Daemon continued. "Both my sister," He indicated me. "And my mother," he indicated Daena. "Have counseled mercy, and I agree with them. No one will harm so much as a hair on your heads on my command! Anyone who does shall face my wrath!"

The hall erupted.

People were clamoring and shouting until Daemon started to talk again.

"Instead I will set you free, to go wherever you might wish. You may take your possessions and wealth with you, and the Kingsguard knights," Daemon indicated the seven knights standing behind the former royal family. "Will accompany you and protect you. I will only turn on you if you raise rebellion against me."

Daeron and his wife exchanged a glance.

It was Daeron who finally spoke up. "If that is so, then we will go to Dorne."

Daemon nodded his agreement. "It will be so."

And that bit of drama was over.

Just what to do with the former royal family had been hotly debated between us. Daena herself had advocated for sparing them. I honestly didn't know if this was because she loved them or because she knew that the stigma of a kinslayer would haunt Daemon for life.

I was the only one who advocated setting them free.

Daena wanted to hold them as hostages, and Daemon himself was of that opinion.

I had talked them both down.

I had said it was because it would paint Daemon as a merciful king, and his enemies will have a clear rallying point around the exiled Daeron, and we ourselves would then know where to strike by keeping track of them.

In reality it was because I felt bad about my own part in bringing down Daeron.

Visenya yelled at me for it, and she was probably right, but I decided to do this one thing.

Daeron and his family was in this situation because of my poor decision making, and I will try to make amends for them as far as I was able.

I was only dimly aware of Daemon dismissing the seven Kingsguard knights from their order and commanding them to act as the sworn swords of the former royal family.

I was too busy wondering if I made a terrible mistake.

+page break+

"Lady Visenya!" Daemon's booming voice woke me from my musings. "Step forward!"

I did so. Coming forward and bending one knee before the new king. I was still wearing my armor, but it was surprisingly easy to move in it, and kneeling wasn't uncomfortable at all.

"Lady Visenya," Daemon was still speaking. "You have helped me more than any other, and I will not forget all that you have done! Therefore, I hereby confirm you as the daughter of the late king, and by royal decree legitimize you as a member of House Targaryen!"

Behind me, people were cheering, I just smiled up at Daemon.

"Furthermore," Daemon's voice boomed and silenced the crowd. "I hereby appoint her the Lady of Dragonstone and liege of all the islands surrounding. This title will be held by her and her children until the end of time."

Lady of Dragonstone. Me. My how I went up in the world.

It's not everyday you got your own private island.

"And finally," Daemon was still talking. "I must lay a huge responsibility on her shoulders."

Once more the hall was deathly silent.

"My lady," Daemon addressed me. "By the blessing of the gods, you are the only dragonrider in the world at this moment, and it is upon you to make sure that the dragonriders do not die out with you. However," Here Daemon raised his voice. "We must also make sure that a tragedy like the dance of the dragons does not happen again. That was a dark time when dragonriders failed the realm they should have protected. When princes drunk on power carelessly burned the very land that was theirs. This must never happen again."

The crowd roared approval.

"Therefore," Daemon proclaimed. "I hereby declare the founding of the Royal Order of Dragonriders!"

Once more there was silence in the great hall.

"They will be an order much like the Kingsguard except that their members will be dragonriders. They will be bound by the same oath as the Kingsguard, but their numbers will not be so limited. They will only answer to the king, and they will be the executors of the kings will and the guardians of the realm. Lady Visenya will be the first member of this new order and it's Lady Commander. She will also sit on the small council as the Mistress of Dragons."

More silence, then, cheers.

This was the solution we came up with after brainstorming for a full day with Visenya pitching in.

We had to make sure that another dance of the dragons will never happen. At least until the Night King came south. The best way to do that as far as we could see was to make sure that the dragonriders cannot make bids for the throne and use their dragons to ignite civil war.

In truth, the notion of letting every little princeling have a dragon, and then expect them _not_ to use them when their perceived birthright is being threatened was quite ridiculous.

So we took the dragons away from any ambitious princes and nationalized them.

Visenya admitted that this was how the Valyrians of old did things. The dragonlords of the old freehold were a separate caste of sorts and and had to put in mandatory military service in exchange for a lot of their privileges.

I myself was guided by a simple example from my old world.

In the U.S.A, the nuclear weapons are in the hands of the president. He doesn't give one nuke to the first lady, and one each to his kids and so on and so fourth.

The notion was ridiculous.

So we would do the same.

This order will also wield tremendous power, and will be able to influence policy. Eventually we might be able to make kings and cast them down. If I train my successors carefully, they would carry on my work.

Hopefully.

" _Keep wishing Lady commander_ ," Visenya snarked in me head.

Shut up.

On my cue, I offered up my _very_ recently given domain of dragonstone to the king for the use as the headquarters of the new order, and he graciously accepted.

And that was that.

+page break+

The next thing on the menu was the appointment of the new kingsguard.

"I have need of a new Kingsguard!" Daemon proclaimed. " _Sir Quentyn Ball! Step forwards!_ "

Said knight did indeed come forward, and I had to fight down a smile again.

He was still a young man, and looked very much the iconic Westerosi knight.

Board shoulders, tall, close cut beard.

He was very loyal to Daemon however, and that made him a good man in my book.

In Westeros, a trustworthy man was worth his weight in gold.

" _That is the truth my dear girl,_ " Visenya said. " _You are learning, finally._ "

Ser Quentyn kneeled before the king, and Daemon rose from his throne and drew his blade.

"Ser Quentyn," Daemon said, his voice loud and heard by all, but addressing Ser Ball, _dammit don't smile_! "I have need of new Kingsguard, and I can think of no better man for this high honor than you, will you serve me as my Kingsguard my friend?"

I swear I saw tears in the man's eyes as he gave his acceptance. "Yes Your Grace, I do."

"Very well," Daemon said. "Then speak your oath."

Ser Quentyn stepped forward, shed his cloak, and began to speak.

"Under the eyes of the seven, and before my king I so do swear,

I will guard my king and his Family,

I will defend the honor of my king and his family,

I will defend my king's realm from his foes,

I will obey his commands and give him my life in service,

I will take no wife,

I will hold no lands,

I will dedicate my life to the Royal order of the Kingsguard,

From this day, until the last of my days."

A servant presented him with a white cloak, and Daemon stepped forward and draped it over Ser Quentyn's shoulders, and he rose a kingsguard.

"Welcome to my service, Ser Quentyn Ball, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard." Daemon actually embraced the man, and the crowd cheered.

That was a touching moment. It had a lot of weight behind it. The wording itself was similar to the oath I remembered from the Night's Watch, but different.

" _I used them as an inspiration when I made the vows_ ," Visenya said. " _It was something the knights of Westeros_ _could look up to and inspire to. A noble order._ "

Knightly orders. I mused. Something to think about for the future.

" _It might make a good starting point for the royal army you keep imagining,_ " Visenya informed me. " _But we have to be careful. Too much change too fast can create rebellion._ "

I suppose she's right about that as well. We need to give westeros time to get used to our new dragonriders, excuse me, Dragonriders, before we make anymore changes.

+page break+

Daemon named four Kingsguard in one sitting, men recommended by his mother and men he knew personally, and declared that he will name the rest at a later date after he had found men of proven valor and loyalty. He promised a great tournament where the knights of Westeros could compete for the honor.

Then it was on to the small council.

Daemon's small council was noting to write home about.

There were a few notable names, like Lord Addam Velaryon who commanded the royal fleet. And Ser Manfred Lothston, who commanded the city watch, aka the goldcloaks. But most were of no consequence, like the Kings Hand, Lord Ambrose Butterwell.

We had already planned what to do with most of them.

"Ser Manfred Lothston," Daemon addressed the knight, who had an honest-to-god, _batman logo_ on his surcoat. "You have served well as the Lord commander of the goldcloaks. Will you serve me the same way?"

Ser Manfred fell to his knees. "Yes your grace! I swear it!"

Well that didn't take long.

It was the same with Lord Velaryon.

Daena had spoken to him the day before, and he'd promised his help to the new dynasty. He had also demanded more, such as marriage to me of all people, but Daena had wisely put an end to that by saying that Daemon will never let me, the only dragonrider, marry outside the royal house.

That was the only thing that stopped me from introducing him to Vhagar.

Daena had promised him a marriage to the royal house, but the issue itself was to be decided later.

I had resolved to keep an eye on him, he was not quite loyal, but could be kept loyal to Daemon if managed carefully. Both Visenya, the original one, and Daena, agreed with me.

I watched as Daemon went on to dismiss the rest of the small council. Starting with the hand, Lord Butterwell, and then going down the line.

I stayed at my place beside the king and watched the proceedings.

Two lords kept their seats and five went home. Because Daemon gave them the same deal he gave the former royal family. Safe passage home and they would suffer no repercussions.

Naturally, they all took it.

With that, Daemon finally called the court to a close.

"Well," he said as he finally stood from the iron throne. "I have gotten past the first day as king."

"This was just the beginning," Daena reminded him. "There is still a lot to do if you ever want to be secure in your throne."

"I know mother," Daemon assured her. "And we will not rest until it's done." He turned to me. "Sister?"

I nodded. "I have the list. I will start right now."

Time to put my formidable diplomatic skills to the test.

"This is going to go so well," Visenya crowed.

Shut up.

+page break+

 **Chapter 10**

I landed Vhagar before the Great Sept, and dismounted before walking up to the gates and the two spetons who stood token guard at the great gates.

"I wish to meet with His High Holiness," That was how you addressed the High Septon.

"Yes, Your Grace," one of the septons said. "His High Holiness is expecting you."

"I'm not a…. oh never mind," I sighed. "Lead the way."

+page break+

" _You need to kneel_ ," Visenya hissed in my ear.

I held back my sigh and knelt before the old priest.

The High Septon was always dressed in his white robes embroidered in gold, and he was even wearing that ridiculous crystal crown that made it look as if he was wearing a castle on his head.

Still, he was one of the most powerful men in the Seven Kingdoms, and not one to be taken lightly.

"Your High Holiness," I said, high school drama class, don't fail me now. "I have come because King Daemon desperately needs your council."

The old man smiled. "I would of course be glad to advice the young king on any matter that he would be facing."

"That is exactly the issue Your High Holiness," I said to the old man. "His Grace feels that your advice is too valuable to ignore. Therefore, he would like to invite you to act as his adviser on a more permanent basis. He would like to offer you a seat on his small council. A new position, one that advises on matters of faith."

That gave the old man pause. I had told him earlier that I was coming to talk to him about an important matter, but I didn't tell him what it was. Eventually though, he turned to me.

"This is a grave matter and I must meditate on it before I can make a decision Your Grace," the High Septon said. "Please understand, I am not averse to the notion, but it is not one to be made lightly."

"May I ask what the issue is Your High Holiness?" I spoke up. I wondered just how political this priest was. He anointed the Blackfyre king. He was in bed with us now. He had to realize that.

"The number of the small council had always been seven Your Grace," The High Septon said. "An auspicious number and a blessed one. It had always been so since the founding of the body. To dilute that number by adding another, by making it eight, would not sit well in the eyes of The Seven."

I had to work hard to keep my jaw from dropping.

We were trying to stop a civil war. To stop the seven kingdoms from descending into chaos and blood. To ultimately save the world from the upcoming zombie apocalypse.

And while all this was going on, this man, this old priest, was going on about the importance of the number seven.

" _Don't you dare yell at him!_ " Visenya yelled in my head.

I'm not that stupid.

"I implore you to make haste with your meditations Your High Holiness," I said carefully. "Our realm teeters on the brink of war, and we desperately need your counsel. Not occasionally when we come to the Great Sept. But everyday."

I'm giving him the chance to sit on the executive body of the Seven Kingdoms. Giving the faith a chance at true political power, He has to see that. If not him, then his equivalent of the college of cardinals, the Most Devout, will.

"I want to do this Your Grace," the old man assured me. "You are clearly blessed by the gods, and you continue to show your piety by coming to the faith and offering this great boon. But I must confer with my fellows and pray for guidance before making a choice."

"Of course Your High Holiness," I assured him. "But be assured, the king is determined to have the faith represented in his council. He will be willing to dismiss an existing office to make way for you, or even raise the number of the council to fourteen to accommodate you."

That was something else we had discussed. Adding more offices to the council.

Whether or not to include the High Septon had been a heated debate. With Daena bringing up the trouble with the Faith Militant during the reign of Maegor the cruel. I myself remembered what had happened when the Faith Militant had been reinstated. But while I agreed that giving the faith weapons was a bad idea, not giving them a voice was also equally bad.

Besides, there was an office in the council that could be abolished.

The Master of Whisperers has always been an office in the council ever since Maegor. But having everyone know who the spymaster is? Not the best of ideas. I had proposed that we publicly take the axe to the office of the Master of Whisperers before appointing a new one in secret, a man whose identity will always be kept secret, only known to the king. His office can then be given over to someone else, like the High Septon. It would give us the support of the faith, and _that_ will always be a boon when keeping the realm together.

"Fourteen?" the High Septon mused. "That is an auspicious number. That would be acceptable in the eyes of the gods. As I said, I will meditate on this your grace."

"That is all I ask," I said and took my leave.

My first diplomatic mission, and it's a maybe.

I hope the other goes better.

+page break+

The next stop was the city walls, where my next appointment stood watching the commander of the goldcloaks direct the securing of the gates and ramparts.

Lord Leo Tyrell, already known as Leo Longthorn.

Not yet thirty, he was already the Lord of Highgarden and Warden of the South.

By all accounts he was a superb soldier and a good lord for his domain. We had lucked out because he had actually come to the city for the wedding, and had stayed to help with the aftermath. But the best part? So far he had seemed amenable to Daemon's rule, and hadn't fled the city despite having had ample opportunity.

I took that as a good sign.

His support will be vital to keeping Daemon on the throne.

"Your Grace," He greeted me as I dismounted and walked up to him. I wondered why people kept calling me that.

" _Because Daemon made you a Targaryen. T_ _h_ _at makes you royal, and a princess_ ," Visenya said from within my head.

Oh, oh!

I'm a princess.

An actual princess.

I'm going to kill someone.

Or burn someone down.

Visenya giggled in my head.

"Your Grace?" Leo was peeking at me in concern. "Are you well?"

I blinked and shook my head. "Yes, apologies, it has been a long day."

"Yes it has," He said graciously. "Making kings and casting them down can be thirsty work."

I burst out laughing, I couldn't help it. "Well that's one way to put it. Actually my lord, that's why I came. May we speak ?"

"I would be glad to hear you out Your Grace. But remember, I must think of my house and my domain before agreeing to any proposal." Well he tells it to you straight.

"I would expect nothing less from you my lord," I assured him. "I will ask you the question plainly. Will you bend the knee to King Daemon and help protect his realm?"

He watched me shrewdly. "You have taken the capital, the throne, and the crown. You even have a dragon. But you haven't taken the kingdom yet Your Grace."

I nodded and said as much, "I know taking a single city does not count as securing the realm. I know that we could be looking at a civil war if we do not move quickly. That is why I need your help my lord. You can pacify the reach, You can help the chaos from spreading. You can help us stop a war."

"You let Daeron and his family go," He told me. "They will not go quietly into exile. They will raise rebellion."

"I'm not a kinslayer," I told him. "And just as you said, they will be a rallying point for potential rebels to gather around. We will know who the rebels are just by keeping an eye on them."

"That….. might work," he said. "But it was also risky. Such a gamble might easily go wrong."

"Either way, it's done now my lord," I'd already gotten an earful from both Daena and Visenya about just this. "Back to the matter at hand, will you help us my lord?"

"Your Grace, The Reach is the largest kingdom barring The North," he told me. "House Tyrell, as much as I would wish otherwise, is not the only power in the Reach. House Tarly is strong in both men and martial tradition. House Redwyne has a fleet that can almost match the royal fleet and is rich in gold. House Hightower is an old and powerful house that has always contested House Tyrell as the dominant house of the Reach. And then there are the Marcher Lords, they have always been fiercely independent, and even the old kings of the Reach had trouble controlling them. Doing as you ask will be no easy task."

"We will help you," I promised him. "The crown will help you. And I myself will come personally if things get to that point. That should even the odds."

"I should," he admitted. "And a dragon like that will most certainly persuade a lot of Lords to bend the knee. But what happens if they don't Your Grace? Will you burn castle after castle like Maegor the Cruel did? Will you follow in the footsteps of Aemond One-Eye and burn an entire kingdom?"

I stared at him. What was he getting at? What is his angle? Still, I can answer him truthfully. "I am neither of those my lord. I will use dragonfire as a last resort. First I will use all other means at my disposal to make them bend the knee. This I can promise you."

"I see," He sighed. "You put me in a difficult position Your Grace. If I bend the knee I might incite rebellion in the Reach. If I do not, I might sign the death warrant of my house."

Leo was a wise man. Not what you'd expect from a medieval noble.

" _They lack the education given to your modern men, but that doesn't mean that they lack intelligence_ ," Visenya said.

I know, and I have to do this carefully. I couldn't promise him freedom to leave like I did Daeron, we can't just let a Lord Paramount go after he refused to bend the knee, but I can persuade him that the benefits of bending the knee are worth more than not bending the knee.

"House Blackfye, and House Targaryen both wish to be your friend my lord. Not your enemy," I said, "We will stand behind you and defend you from your foes just as you will defend us from ours. To show our commitment to you and your house, his grace King Daemon even assured me that he is prepared to offer you a place in his council."

He smiled at me wryly. "This might ruin my house. But I will do this. I will support you and King Daemon."

Oh thank goodness! Something went right today.

"One more thing my lord," I said. "That place on his council? The king would be honored if you will serve as his hand. I myself can think of no better man to help both the Seven Kingdoms and their king through these trying times."

His eyes widened.

Ha! Got him!

This will make him one of the most powerful men in the Realm. He will also be tied to us quite firmly with this, and with him will come the reach.

"I," he paused and steeled himself visibly. "I accept Your Grace."

Just call me Visenya the diplomat.

+page break+

The next meeting involved a lot less pressure.

"How did it go?" Daena asked me when I got back.

"The High Septon is on the fence, but Lord Tyrell agreed," I reported.

"The High Septon will come around," Daena said confidently. "This is too good for him to pass up. Give him a few days."

"I hope so," I started to walk alongside her down the corridor. "How did your errand go?"

"He was angry," Daena glared at me.

"To be expected, we weren't exactly gentle about it," I shrugged apologetically.

"You came into his daughters wedding, carried off the husband to be, and my son, _my son_!" Daena stopped to draw a long calming breath and let it out. "Daemon insulted her before the entire realm."

"It wasn't the entire realm," I protested. "It was several thousand people and half the great lords of a couple of kingdoms."

Daena stared at me.

I wilted.

"Okay, fine! I admit it!" I confessed. "That was a complete fuck up. And most of it was my fault. Now can we please focus on fixing said fuck up?"

"At least you know what you did," Daena said at length. "Like I said, he was angry."

"If it helps, tell him I spanked Daemon's ass right and proper in the forest for insulting a fair lady like that!" I said.

"That would make things worse and paint you as a madwoman!" Daena snapped.

"Well it's the best I can offer," I said. "What else does he want?"

"He wanted your hand in marriage as an apology," Daena said.

"What!" I shirked.

"It's a good thing you're the only dragonrider we have, and my son had created a new office for the dragonriders that require vows of chastity, or it very well might have come to that!" Daena kept going.

"Yes, fortunate," I said faintly.

"However," Daena continued. "He is happy to accept another marriage, to young Aegor this time, with a substantial increase of dowry, and another marriage later on."

"An in return?" I sighed.

"In return Tyrosh will help my son in his cause. Not directly, but their fleet will aid ours and they will supply us if we have to wage a campaign," Daena said and I frowned, that, didn't seem like much. Did we get shafted?

"So Tyrosh is appeased," I said.

"I wouldn't say appeased," Daena said. "But rather, they're not actively hostile towards us right now. True appeasement will take years."

I suppose that's true. Oh god, I almost did a Rhaegar Targaryen with that abduction didn't I? I'm fucking lucky I didn't start a full fledged war.

I felt faint.

Daena was still talking, unheeding of my internal crisis, "At the least now my son will be able to marry who he truly wants to. It will be a good match too. It will firmly tie the Targaryens and the Blackfyres together."

"Yes," I said weakly. "Lucky Daemon."

At least one of us is going to be happy.

+page break+

 **Chapter 11**

My next diplomatic meeting was actually a lot harder than the first two.

"You said you were going to ravish Daemon!" Daenerys Targaryen accused me.

This one wasn't Daenerys Targaryen, the first of her name, the Mother of Dragons, the Breaker of Chains, the Woman Who Thought Jon Snow Something etc etc.

No, this was Daenerys Targaryen the Tiny.

She was the one who, if not for my interference, would have married the Prince of Dorne and finally united the Seven Kingdoms once and for all. If the more romantic histories are to be believed, then she was also the catalyst for the Blackfyre Rebellion, because it was her marriage that first planted the seeds of rebellion inside Daemon.

She was also exceedingly cute. I would have swept the little munchkin up in a hug if she wasn't glaring at me with righteous fury.

I exchanged a glance with Daena, who was no help at all.

She just smiled and gestured for me to take the reigns of this conversation.

I sighed and turned to address the pint sized princess, "Princess, I swear to you, I did nothing of the sort to Daemon."

Daenerys huffed.

"You see, it was all a ruse to cunningly divert attention from my true goal, which was to free my dear Daemon from a marriage that would have been loveless!" I made up on the spot. "We had met in secret earlier, Daemon and I, and he had told me all about who he truly wishes to marry!"

Daenerys went red.

"Therefore I decided to make sure that I will unite him with his true love," I continued. "I made it my personal quest."

Daenerys mumbled incoherently.

"So Daenerys," I decided to get to the point. "Would you be willing to marry our new king? Would you be willing to marry Daemon Blackfyre?"

Daenerys stared at me with dropped jaw, then nodded rapidly.

"Excellent!" I said happily. "Then we will arrange for the betrothal to be announced and the wedding itself will be held as soon as possible."

I wonder, does she understand what this really is? Daenerys is ten. She's a kid in truest sense of the term. And she's getting married. To Daemon. Who is thirteen. Does either of them understand what this really is? They might say they love each other, they might even honestly think that. But do they even know what love is? And we will be marrying them. They will be doing god only knows what once the marriage is official.

" _They won't consummate the marriage until they're six and ten and she is flowered, as they put it,_ " Visenya assured me. " _The Westerosi are barbarians, but even they are not that depraved._ "

Well that's a relief. But that still leaves these two about to get married claiming to love each other, when they might well come to regret it later.

Oh well, it's their choice. If things don't go well, we'll deal with it then.

"Normally we would not hold a wedding until you are both six and ten," Daena was saying. "But considering the circumstances, we shall do it once you are flowered."

Which means when she's twelve? Thirteen? When do girls _flower_? That was never a fact I needed to remember. Because naturally, this was not a situation I ever thought I'd be in.

" _You're about right_ ," Visenya said. " _I'd say thirteen with the way she's growing._ "

Huh, and Daeron himself would have married off Daemon at age thirteen if I hadn't interfered. This place is seriously fucked up.

" _The Westerosi are bararians_ ," Visenya said. " _I told you_."

I suppose the Valyrians were better? I've heard _stories_.

" _Oh, shut up!_ "

Still, I'm teaching her about proper behavior and how to say no to boys. I don't want her pressured into something she doesn't want to be. I'll also be having words with Daemon about gentlemanly behavior. Not that it'll be that different, Daemon was a good boy, and chivalric to a fault.

+page break+

"Well that's done," Daena said. "I will arrange the wedding shall I?"

"Please do," I said.

Weddings were not my area. Visenya herself didn't know much about them.

But Daena was well versed in such arcane arts and quite willing to help. In her own words, "You might have come out of nowhere and torn our house apart, but at least you're firmly on my son's side and I must help you if I'm to save my son."

Hearing such scathing words from such a milf broke my heart, but I soldiered on.

Still, that's another one off my to-do list.

+page break+

Unfortunately it didn't end there.

Daenerys herself seemed to have become attached to me, and started to hound my steps with her trusty sidekick, Shiera Waters, who will one day become Sheira the Supermodel and seduce Bloodraven.

Of course Shiera wont be seducing anyone for another good ten years. She was even younger than Daenerys with her ten years.

The little munchkins really seemed to like me.

They also had an ulterior motive.

They wanted dragon rides.

"Stop squirming!" I ordered Daenerys as we flew over King's Landing and over towards Blackwater Bay. "That's an order rider!"

Daenerys giggled and squirmed some more.

It's a good thing she was strapped in or she really might have fallen.

I was mounted atop Vhagar and Daenerys was seated in front of me, tied firmly to me by a leather strap that went around both our waists. I had one arms around her for good measure, holding her against my chest.

And a good thing too, because this girl was far too excited about this, I wonder if someone gave her sugar? Do they have sugar in Westeros?

"Can I have a dragon of my own?" Daenerys asked me, derailing my train of thought.

"As soon as the Realm is reasonably secure little one," I promised her. "I will look into making new dragons and riders. But they will be part of the new order of riders. You'll have to join if you want to be a rider."

"So I can't have one?" Daenerys looked devastated.

"We'll see," I promised again. "Maybe one day when you're tired of Daemon you can join my order!"

"That'll never happen!" Daenerys said vehemently. "We'll be together forever."

Ah, young love!

"But remember Daenerys," I said. "You'll be the queen one day, and you'll be able to have all the dragon rides you want!"

"But I want a dragon of my own!" Daenerys wailed. "Why should all the riders be in your order?"

Oh kid. This time I hugged her to me. "Who knows, maybe you will become a rider one day, for now enjoy the ride. Now watch this!"

I gave a single command in Valyrian, and Vhagar tucked her wings in and dived.

Daenerys screamed as we pummeled towards the bay below us like a rock.

Then, at the last moment, Vhagar spread her wings and checked her dive, creating a shockwave that sent ripples across the ocean below us before she started climbing again.

"That was, that was," Daenerys spluttered. "That was the greatest!"

"I know," I said and grinned. "Flying is the best."

"Can we do this tomorrow as well?" Daenerys asked.

"Tomorrow is for Shiera remember," I said. "You each get one day to ride with me."

"But can't you take us both at once?" Daenerys demanded. The kid really has caught the flying bug.

"If I take you both flying at once, one of you will end up falling off," I stated and Daenerys looked down half guiltily. "There will be rules about this. One person per ride, and only one ride per day."

"But if I had my own dragon, then it won't be a problem!" Daenerys came back with her own argument.

"We'll have to see about that," I told her. "Maybe proclaim a law that says that having a dragon hatch for you automatically recruits you into the order? A Rite of Conscription, like the Gray Wardens? "

"What are the Gray Wardens?" Daenerys demanded.

"Oh, an order of warriors that are said to have existed in a time when Valyria was still young," I informed her with a grin. "Would you like to hear the story of how one young Gray Warden saved his kingdom from a horde of evil monsters during the Long Night?"

Daenerys thought about it and said, "Very well."

+page break+

 **Interlude**

Lord Durran Baratheon, Lord of Storm's End, and Lord Paramount of the Stormlands was shut up in his solar with three of his most trusted advisers.

They were seated around a small table that Lord Durran used to write letters, in comfortable chairs.

The door of the room was shut and no servants were allowed inside.

His maester, Jonas, had been with him since childhood. His steward, Ser Harwyn, had succeeded into the post a scant few years ago. His younger brother, Ser Steffon, was the third member of the group.

Then there were the guests. The Lord of Griffon's Roost, Lord Roger Connington, had raced over when they got the news. And finally, Lord Fell of Felwood had come personally to give the news.

"It's already happened," Ser Harwyn was saying. "King Daeron was dethroned and a new king was proclaimed. The news is even now being proclaimed by heralds across the land."

"Do we even know what happened to King Daeron and his family?" Ser Steffon asked.

"According to the news from King's Landing, they were pardoned and put on a ship to Dorne with his family," Maester Jonas said. "No harm was done to them."

"Did they make it to Dorne? How do we know they were not killed off quietly?" Ser Harwyn asked.

"We will know soon enough," Lord Durran said. "They didn't put into port here, so they must be going straight for Sunspear. And if they arrive there safely, we will know soon enough."

"That still leaves the question of what to do," Ser Steffon said. "A new king has been proclaimed, and we have gotten ravens demanding we bend the knee. What do we do? Do we support the usurper or throw our support behind King Daeron?"

"The usurper defeated King Daeron in a trial by battle," Lord Durran said. "At least his champion did. That's what the news said did it not?"

"Yes My Lord," Maester Jonas said. "The King faced Lady Visenya in a trial by battle and lost. Before the eyes of gods and men, his claim to the throne was proven false."

"Ah yes, the dragonrider," Lord Durran said. "You met her did you not Lord Fell? What did you think of her?"

"She was unused to our customs, and spoke with an accent I couldn't place. But she was well spoken and seemed to be quite caring about Ser Daemon….. The new king," Lord Fell said. "I truthfully expected them to run off to Essos after the arrest order came. Never did I imagine that they would do something as….. mad, as dethrone the king."

"And her dragon?" Ser Harwyn asked. "How did you find the beast?"

"Massive," Lord Fell shuddered. "Like the black dread reborn. She said it's name was Vhagar."

"And if this dragon was to, shall we say attack our keep?" Ser Harwyn asked.

"It will be a second Harrenhal," Lord Fell said and closed his eyes and shuddered again. "That dragon can easily do it. Burn an entire keep and everyone in it."

"So what do we do?" Lord Connington asked. "Risk civil war by throwing in with the new king? Or declare for Daeron and risk our keeps burning?"

"If Daeron challenges Daemon," Lord Durran said. "He will do so with Dornish swords. If we fight for Daeron, we fight alongside the Dornishmen. The Marcher Lords and the Tyrells will not take that well. We might have to deal with rebellion right here in the Stormlands and invasion from the Reach."

"My Lord?" Maester Jonas said. "The news from King's Landing is confusing and contradictory, but it could be that Lord Velaryon has bent the knee already. And if he has bent the knee…."

"Then the rest of the island lords will follow," Lord Durran Finished for him. "That just leaves Maidenpool and Duskendale left as far as the Crownlands are . They will fall in line soon enough. They cannot fight King's Landing. Not without the support from the other kingdoms."

"Do we know which way the Tyrell's will go?" Lord Connington asked. "They are the house that can affect us the most. If they declare for Daemon, then we are in a corner."

"And Daeron was proven to be a bastard," Lord Durran said. "Proven before the High Septon! Proven before thousands! Even if Daeron presses his claim again, even if he wins, he will forever be challenged by others. By other lords and his own family."

"Daemon certainly moved fast," Lord Connington said. "He deposed the old king, crowned himself, and is now calling for our submission."

"It looks as if we have no choice but to support Daemon," Ser Harwyn said.

"I wouldn't say that," Lord Durran said. "We simply cannot support Daeron so long as he fights alongside the Dornishmen. That will earn us the enmity of half the kingdoms. And we may be backed into a corner if the Tyrells support Daemon."

"And if we do support Daemon, it might start a war," Ser Harwyn said. "We fought in Dorne not so long ago. Many of our knights died fighting to take Dorne, and even more fought fighting to hold it. Can we bleed for the Targaryens again? So soon?"

"We will do what we must," Lord Durran said. "Both Baelor and Aegon nearly ruined the realm. And Daeron started out showing far too much favor to the Dorne that we fought against for so long. Who knows how he would have alienated the Realm if he had ruled for longer? Now this new king threatens to plunge the realm into war!" He looked around at the gathering. "We will do what we must to make certain that the Stormlands do not suffer for their ambition."

Before he could go any further, a banging at the door caused him to gesture towards Ser Harwyn to open it.

A guardsman rushed through the open door and saluted to Lord Durran, "She's here My Lord!"

"Who's here?" Lord Durran demanded.

"The dragon My Lord!" the guard said. "They're flying outside!"

"Oh," Lord Durran said.

+page break+

 **Chapter 12**

Lord Baratheon and I both stood around awkwardly until a page boy ran in with a silver plate that had half a loaf of bread and a small bowl of salt.

Bread and salt.

Also known as the rite of hospitality that kept the houses of Westeros from completely murdering each other without any restraint whatsoever.

Not that it helped Daeron the first. Nor will it help Robb Stark the Young Wolf in the far future.

" _The Baratheons will not break guest right. They are too honorable for that_ ," Visenya said in my head. " _And even if they were tempted, the fact that the Dornish did it and murdered a king should enrage then enough to make it a non factor_."

And that's enough to gamble our lives on?

" _There is no such thing as absolute security_ ," Visenya said. " _And even a honorable man might be tempted to abandon honor if he could get away with it. But Baratheon offered you bread and salt in front of his keep in full view of it's entire populace. He cannot go back on it now without staining his reputation forever_."

So I'm safe because murdering me is bad PR?

" _Pretty much_."

Lord Baratheon ripped out a small piece of bread, dipped it into the bowl of salt, and popped it in his mouth.

I reached out and did the same.

And that was that.

He invited me into the castle, I accepted. And we both passed through the giant gatehouse of Storm's End.

Storm's End was an ugly castle.

It was built in circles and cylinders with no thought to beauty or aesthetics. But I admitted that it's crudeness and rough edges had a beauty all of it's own.

A giant drum like keep reared it's head from behind massive walls that were both tall and thick enough to give any modern architect pause.

The walls were done up in a rough circular shape as I had seen from the sky, with giant rectangular towers reinforcing the walls at even distances and a giant square gatehouse in the center of the landward facing side.

The keep sat at the very center of the castle grounds, and was so large it could have held a minor castle inside it.

In the area between the keep and the walls I had seen dozens of outbuildings, and Visenya had identified them as stables, septs, blacksmiths and little houses for the soldiers and staff.

Now, as I passed under the gatehouse, I could see dozens of murder-holes lining the ceiling above, and more than one portcullis that could be dropped to block off an attacking army.

And the gate house passage was long.

It was long because the walls around it were thick.

Not European castle thick, but more Great Wall of China thick.

I don't think any conventional army can take this castle. Not unless they had cannons or dragons.

" _Lucky we have a dragon right?_ " Visenya said.

Above us, I could hear Vhagar roar as she circled overhead.

+page break+

"My Lord," I said to Lord Baratheon as we walked along the walls. "I am most grateful for your hospitality, and for the gracious way you received me. But every moment we delay is one more chance for the Realm to plunge into war."

Baratheon had declared a feast in my honor, and invited all the local gentry to the event. It was to be tomorrow, and he assured me that I would get the chance to address him and his household at the event.

Everything was very polite, and everyone went out of their way to accommodate me.

The only issue was the lord of the castle.

He seemed to be avoiding me.

On Visenya's advice I had persuaded him to give me a tour of the castle, asking in front of the assembled household and couching it as a favor for a lady so he couldn't say no.

Baratheon had reluctantly agreed and had taken me around the castle and grounds.

But the good thing was that the tour seemed to get him to open up.

As he showed me the towers and pointed out the defensive works and bragged about the height and thickness of the walls, he actually loosened up and became a bit more willing to talk.

Boys and their toys.

Currently we were standing on top of the gatehouse, which Lord Baratheon assured me was the only route into the castle.

However, Visenya told me that there was another smaller entrance on the seaward side that could be used to escape the castle or smuggle supplies in.

I wondered if that was how Ser Davos got his onions into the castle in that other timeline.

I was brought out of my musings when Lord Baratheon spoke up.

"The Stormlanders are warriors, but I do not wish for war anymore than you do Your Grace," He said. "Not a war where the Realm turns on itself at the least. We all know the story of the dance."

"I agree," I said. "If we fight, we should fight against a common enemy. Not each other."

"As you say Your Grace," Lord Baratheon said. "We have a common enemy. One who might be emboldened by receiving the exiled royal family you released."

"My Lord," I said. "Dorne's only advantage is a defensive one. They have natural defenses that make a conquest of their land near impossible. The mountains passes guard the route to the south, making any army bleed itself dry if they wish to cross over into Dorne. The desert itself makes maintaining a supply line for a long campaign of conquest even more difficult even if you get past the mountains. But those same advantages turn into disadvantages if they attempt a war of conquest. That desert land doesn't have a population large enough or supplies plentiful enough. They can hold their territory, but that's all they can do."

Lord Baratheon stared at me, "You are wise Your Grace. Even if Daeron Targaryen does get refuge in Dorne, and they commit to his cause, they cannot fight the other kingdoms and place him on the throne."

"Not unless the other great houses declare for his cause," I said.

"Yes," Lord Baratheon said. "That has been…. A matter we have long discussed."

"Yes My Lord," I said. "And you'll be happy to hear that Lord Velaryon has agreed to bend the knee to King Daemon and become his Master of Ships. The Velaryon fleet, along with the Royal Fleet, will be guarding the Realm against any attack from the sea. And Lord Tyrell has agreed to serve King Daemon as his hand. Even now Lord Tyrell makes preparations to march to Highgarden and begin securing the submission of the rest of his lords."

Lord Baratheon stared at me.

" _He is in a corner and he knows it_ ," Visenya said.

"If you join with us, then with both the Reach and the Stormlands guarding the land passage south, and the Velaryons guarding the sea passage, then Daeron has no way to incite the realm to war. We can end this before it ever began."

"There is wisdom in your words Your Grace," Lord Baratheon said at length. "Know this, I do not wish to break the friendship that had existed between the houses of Aegon and Orys since the very beginning of the conquest. And hearing your news and having got the measure of you, I'm inclined to support you. But like Tyrell, my bannermen are not so easily swayed. And Daeron has many friends despite his unseemly support of the Dornish. If I declare for King Daemon, then I might well have to fight a war in the Stormlands to secure it once more."

"You would not fight alone, and it will be a very short war," I said ad gave a very pointed glance up where Vhagar was flying in lazy circles.

Lord Baratheon grimaced and turned slightly green.

"But I do not wish for it to come to that!" I said quickly. "I wish to do this as peacefully as possible."

Lord Baratheon heaved a sigh and looked slightly less green.

"I propose this My Lord," I said. "Declare for King Daemon and then summon all your lords to a great council and feast. There I will address them and convince them to join our cause. That way we bring the Stormlands to the fold without burning any keeps. If need be I will once more prove the righteousness of my cause on my sword."

Lord Baratheon stared at me. Then he looked up at my dragon. At last he spoke.

"That is a wise course of action Your Grace. Let us discuss this further."

+page break+

 **Chapter 13**

Westeros was a continent full of contrasts.

The smallfolk, as the lower classes were called, lived in hovels and wallowed in abject poverty.

Even the noble folk lived in flat out primitive conditions.

The toilets were the best example I could give for that.

But in some ways, the people of Westeros manage to shove in your face the fact that theirs is a civilization equal to any in human history before the industrial revolution.

Their great castles were one such point instance.

They weren't really castles in the same way we defined a castle back on Earth.

The seats of the great houses were really miniature towns masquerading as castles.

And that's without mentioning the sheer size and width of the walls and towers. And that wasn't all. Because how they managed to build something on this scale without any steel reinforcement or _cement_ is an earthshaking achievement. And the best part? They built these castles by the tried and tested method of laying stone on top of other stones. God help me, you really can't slide a knife blade between the stones.

These were building projects to rival the pyramids.

The next thing the people of Westeros had refined into perfection was the knight.

The armor, the weapons, the horse and the training… They had everything down to an art form.

The Stormlords looked like something out of a story book as they rode into Storm's End.

The lords were wearing shining suites of armor that completely concealed the man inside, the horses were adorned with plumes and caparisoned in the myriad colors of their houses and trailing silk ribbons and tassels from their cloth coverings.

Banners and streamers were flying from the lances they held, fluttering in the wind in a hundred colors bearing a hundred house crests.

Like I said before, this group of men looked like they had stepped out of a storybook. I entertained a moments fancy that they were fae, riding through the forests in the moonlight.

That was how splendid they looked.

"Beautiful!" Jasper Fell said from next to me.

His father had readily agreed to send him into my service when I requested it. And I was still debating on what to call him officially.

He wasn't my sworn shield, because I had a giant dragon for that. He wasn't my squire, because I wasn't a knight. He was closer to an assistant or aide, but calling him that might hurt his feelings in this testosterone filled society. I was currently debating the merits of appointing him to my guard, when I actually got around to having one.

" _You'll need to have one ready when you claim Dragonstone_ ," Visenya reminded me.

I know.

Leaving the garrison on Dragonstone as it is was folly.

It was Daeron's seat for a long time before he took the throne, and the men there will be loyal to him.

Hell, the servants there will be loyal to him.

I'll have to replace the entire staff and work for years to earn their loyalty.

Either way, we owed the kid's family, both for giving Daemon and me shelter and for giving Daemon his armor. And I planned to see him knighted at the least.

Right now however, I had other things to focus on.

"Yes, they are certainly a sight to see," I said out loud.

"They look like the heroes of old Your Grace!" Jasper said, his eyes shining.

Kid, the heroes of old would have worn animal skins and waved around bronze weapons. They also would have smelled.

Visenya giggled in my head.

"Can you name the banners?" I said aloud, I didn't want to break that youthful joy. "Who are these stormlords?"

Jasper Fell leaned over the parapet to see better.

"Those are the colors of House Morrigen," He said. "A black crow in a storm green field."

Morrigen? With a crow as their sign? Strange coincidence. Well no matter.

"And those?" I asked and pointed.

"House Tarth of Evenfall Hall. From the island," Jasper said. "Quartered, golden sun on a rose field and silver crescent on a blue field."

"Oh?" I grinned. "Is there a female warrior among them by chance?"

This statement went clear over Jasper's head.

"Lord Tarth is a man Your Grace," Jasper said and looked at me with confusion. "There are female warriors in Dorne? And I've heard that there are women warriors in the North?"

"No matter," I said and directed his attention back down again. "Tell me about the rest of the banners."

"That's House Mertynes of Mistwood," Jasper said. "A white owl in a gray field."

"I see," I said and nodded. "Oh, I know that house! Dondarrion? Right?"

"Yes Your Grace," Jasper said. "He's a one of the Marcher Lords."

The Marcher Lords.

They had actually supported Daeron during the other timeline. But that was because of a marriage Daeron had cleverly arranged that secured their loyalty to his house. Without it, how will they respond?

They hate Dorne, and have ample reason to back an anti Dornish regime.

At least on paper they do.

But politics are rarely about the sensible option, as I was rapidly learning.

Greed, ambition, and idiot pride also played their part in politics.

So where would the Marcher Lords cast their die?

"Is he here to answer the summons or for another reason I wonder?" I wondered out loud.

"Your Grace?" Jasper asked.

I found myself explaining, "The Marcher Lords are guarding the passes to Dorne, and they are rumored to be quite independent. I have a sneaking suspicion that he's here as an ambassador for the rest of his kind, or to sound out what the new king's policies regarding Dorne are."

"The stormlords are loyal to Lord Baratheon Your Grace!" Jasper insisted, all fiery eyed. "They will follow his commands!"

Oh you sweet innocent boy.

"We'll see," I said. "We need to see where we stand with these fine lords. Shall we go and greet them?"

+page break+

I remembered reading about the Hall of a Hundred Fireplaces in Harrenhal, and I had seen the great hall of the Red Keep.

The great hall of Storm's End would have given both of them a run for their money.

It held a thousand men easily during the grand feast Lord Durran threw.

And the feast even spilled out from the great hall into the courtyard, where pavilions and tables had been set up to serve the soldiers and servants that were not allowed in the hall.

Lord Durran was spending a fortune on this feast.

I was seated on the position of honor at his right hand on an upraised portion of the great hall, and from my vantage point I could see both the feasters and the spread.

The sheer variety and amount of meats served rivaled even the buffets I remembered back in Earth.

The cost of the wine alone would be astronomical.

Speaking of which, I gestured for Jasper to put his wine jug down. He had been standing at my elbow ready to fill my goblet, but I had decided to avoid wine today and only pretend to drink.

My diplomatic skills were dependent entirely on voices in my head, and I needed a clear mind to draw upon Visenya's memories. A feat already hard enough without making the situation worse with wine.

"To the new king!" Lord Durran hollered at the top of his voice as he stood on unsteady feet. "Long may he reign!"

The assembled lords cheered, holding wine cups aloft and spilling perfectly good wine everywhere.

"And to his beautiful sister!" Lord Durran roared again. "Long may she protect the realm with her dragon!"

The mob cheered again.

I acknowledged the cheer with a smile and a raised hand before I sighed and passed my goblet to Jasper.

I'm never drinking in public in this world, period.

" _You won't need my help with diplomacy if you opened talks right now_ ," Visenya giggled in my head.

Ha!

Durran Baratheon wasn't alone in his indulging.

Almost everyone around me was pigging out on meat and drinking up the wine as if it were water and they were dying of thirst in a desert.

And their behavior was getting more and more ridiculous by the minute.

"The stormlords are a rowdy bunch Your Grace," Lord Steffon Baratheon said as he leaned over from where he sat on my left. "But they are the best warriors of the realm, and they are good men and godly."

Steffon was younger brother of Lord Durran, and currently was the unofficial second in command of the Baratheon forces. But Lord Durran had recommended him to the vacant small council seat. That of the Master of Laws.

I knew that giving him the post would secure Baratheon loyalty to our cause, and with both Tyrell and Baratheon lords on the council it would give us two kingdoms. Three if you count the Crownlands.

That pretty much guaranteed us victory.

We would have the fleet, the breadbasket of the realm, and the Realm's best soldiers.

But we had to make sure he was loyal, and he had to be the right sort of person to help us with our quest and with the reforms I was planning.

"I do not mind Lord Steffon," I said. "I'm more or less used to being around soldiers." At least Visenya was.

"You spent time among warriors, Your Grace?" Lord Steffon asked. "Was this in Essos?"

"Yes," I said, please don't ask for details, I didn't want to be caught in a lie. "Sellswords mostly."

"The knights of Westeros are cut from firmer cloth than Essosi sellswords Your Grace," Lord Steffon said. "They are like steel and iron. One is strong but brittle, the other will never break."

"You are a poet, Lord Steffon," I said and smiled. "And I have heard the tales of the warriors of the Stormlands. I have no doubts that they are without equal."

And I wasn't joking. The Stormlands were famous for their military prowess. I already knew about how they would overthrow the Targaryens during Robert's Rebellion, and how they would have fought in the Blackfyre Rebellion. But I had discovered that this was the tip of the iceberg.

Before I left for Storm's End, the Grand Maester had given me a rundown on the deeds of the storm knights.

The record was impressive.

All the more reason to get them onside.

"We might show you our mettle soon enough Your Grace," Lord Steffon was saying.

"Let us hope that it's against a mutual enemy Lord Steffon," I said and looked south meaningfully. "Nothing is as distasteful as countrymen fighting each other."

He watched me carefully. "As you say Your Grace. And yet, you challenged King Daeron, who was your kin."

It took a lot of effort not to wince.

"Justice. I did it for justice," I said and marveled at my ability to lie. "And you will note that I refused to kill him. I even persuaded the king to let them go."

"True," Lord Steffon said at length. "You proved yourself merciful and just in that duel. And I can see that you are trying to bring the Stormlands under your banner by peace, when you could have used your dragon to force submission."

"I try to be just, as the gods would want of us," I said. When in doubt, play the religion card.

"So I see," Lord Steffon said and sighed. "I know that my brother has pledged to support you and your king. I will support my brothers choice as is my duty."

He doesn't like me does he?

" _You notice now?_ " Visenya demanded. " _Win him over!_ "

"I hope," I said carefully. "To prove to you both that you made the right choice here."

He stared at me, before nodding and going for his wine.

We have to make him Master of Laws if we truly need Lord Durran to back us. There was no way around that.

I really hope he doesn't turn out to be a political enemy on the Small Council itself.

At least he would be loyal as long as his family prospered alongside us.

A commotion at the doors to the great hall drew my attention.

"Is that?" I said and stopped, words failed me.

"A dancing bear?" Lord Steffon asked and grinned. "Yes, yes it is."

Fuck me.

+page break+

 **Chapter 14**

Surprisingly enough, the Stormlords were not complete fools, and put off discussing business until the next day.

Of course, they had to wait until everyone recovered from their hangovers.

So it was noon by the time the council finally gathered.

It was my time to shine.

Everyone who was important was in the great hall of Storm's End.

The knights and men-at-arms were not present today, nor were the ladies. It was only the lords and their advisers that were present.

"My Lords!" Lord Durran called out as he got to his feet. "We all know what has happened! The former king, Daeron, was proved to be a bastard before the eyes of gods and men! And now the new king, Daemon, has called upon us to bend the knee!" The hall erupted into murmurings. "Now we must decide what to do!" The noise in the hall grew louder. "We cannot sit idle while the realm goes through such a tumultuous time! But we cannot make our choice unwisely either! To that end, I ask you to listen to Princess Visenya, the sister of the new king who has flown here to treat with us."

I stood up and moved around the table to where I was standing in front of the table, facing the crowd.

The hall gradually quieted and everyone ended up staring at me.

This was it.

Time to make the diplomacy roll.

I drew myself up, checked my cue cards…..

" _I'm not a cue card!_ " Visenya yelled.

… and drew in a deep breath and let it out.

"My Lords," I began my speech. "As you would know, I am Visenya, sister to King Daemon, and the _woman_ who accused the former King Daeron of illegitimacy and proved it by a trial by battle."

The hall erupted into murmurings.

I spoke over them, raising my voice, "I want you all to know this! I didn't want to challenge King Daeron!"

Silence from the hall.

I kept speaking, "Even if we only share a father, he is still my brother. Even when his assassins came for my mother and me, I didn't want to confront him. I wanted to forgive him."

The faces around me were hard to read, but saw sympathy on one or two faces.

I clenched my fist and raised my voice, "But when I learned of the truth about his parentage, I had no choice! To leave a false king upon the throne of the Seven Kingdoms would bring the curse of the gods down upon the people and the land itself!"

Another murmur swept through the crowd, but this time it was charged with righteous excitement.

I raised my fist, "Therefore, I had to act! And the gods proved that my choice was the correct one by granting me victory over the false king!"

Somewhere in the back of the hall, someone cheered.

I lowered my fist and spread my hands, "But I did not claim his life! For killing the false king would have been kinslaying, and a kinslayer is cursed by both gods and men. So I did what was just and let him and his family go."

Once more there was silence in the hall.

Now that the mood was set, I finally got to the matter at hand, "But now we face a conundrum My Lords. There is a new king upon the Iron Throne, a new Lord of the Seven Kingdoms. And he needs to stabilize his realm. If the realm does not accept the new king peacefully, strife and contention would wrack the land, and our enemies will love to take advantage of this fact. Because while the Seven Kingdoms are mighty, our true strength is when we are united. And we are surrounded in all sides by foes who would love to take advantage of our disunity and internal strife."

Around the hall heads nodded.

I nodded as well and really got going, "The Iron Islands would take advantage of the strife and raid the coast of the Reach and the Westerlands. Dorne would raid north into the Reach and the Stormlands. Perhaps in the mistaken belief that they can restore Daeron. The pirates of the Stepstones will raid the coast of the Stormlands, perhaps aided by the cities that continue to claim innocence where their depredations are concerned."

More nods came from around the hall, especially from the Marcher Lords like Dondarrion.

I just kept going, "Even in the far north, the wild folk of the north might attack the wall, emboldened by the troubles of the kingdoms."

There wasn't much of a response to that one, understandable, the North was an academic concern for them.

I smiled and brought out my final argument, "The lords of the Crownlands recognized this, and have decided to bend the knee to King Daemon without issue. Lord Velaryon has become the Master of Ships and has taken command of the Royal Fleet to guarding against attacks from both Dorne and any pirates. He has also committed his own fleet to this noble cause. Lord Tyrell has graciously agreed to become the hand of the king, and even now prepares to secure the Reach, both against potential raiders and attacks from the south."

Once more, faces changed around the hall.

This time they were contemplative. The smart among them must have understood the position they were in, and would see the benefit of an alliance with us. It was time to see how many of them would fall in line.

I bowed to the assembly and spoke my final words, "Now I am here to ask you to do the same. With the Stormlands, the Reach and the Crownlands united, we can secure the Realm against both threats from within and threats from without. This is why I ask of you My Lords, to bend the knee to King Daemon, and help us secure the Seven Kingdoms, and bring about an era of prosperity and peace for our land unlike ever before!"

I remained in my bowing position for another moment before straitening.

There was a moment's silence in the hall as everyone stared at me.

Then the shouting started.

+page break+

 **Chapter** **15**

"Jasper! More wine!" I demanded, and he obligingly filled my goblet.

I drank it down in one go.

"That was incredible your grace!" Lord Durran Baratheon praised me. "It went better than I could have hoped. Truly, you are blessed by the gods!"

After I had made my speech, Durran had stood and said his piece, and then after a long and heated debate, the assembled lords had bent the knee to King Daemon.

I had accepted in his place.

I had sent a raven to King's Landing with the good news and then settled into celebrate.

"I still can't believe it myself," I said. "The Stormlands united behind the king and bent the knee, and it was bloodless."

"Not all the Stormlands," Lord Durran said. "We still need to bring several houses into the fold, but with the Marcher Lords, Connington, and Tarth on our side….. Well, it should be easy now."

"I will leave that in your hands My Lord," I said as Jasper filled my goblet for the fourth time. "Bring the Stormlands fully into the fold, and hold the line against Dorne."

He raised his cup to me.

"Meanwhile I will fly to Highgarden with Lord Leo and secure the reach," I said and sipped my wine. "When I say the reach, I really mean House Hightower and House Tarly."

"I can call my banners and send you aid Your Grace," Lord Durran said. "It will go a lot easier with a Stormlander host at your back."

"We want to avoid the impression that the Realm is at war with itself," I said. "If you can send a small host then do so. But there are already a Crownland host with him, alongside his own retainers."

"A thousand men then?" Lord Durran asked.

"That should give us five thousand men total," I said and thought about it. "With me added in, that should be enough."

"Try not to burn down the Reach," Lord Durran said, and I honestly couldn't tell if he was joking.

I blame the beard.

It conceals the face.

"I wont," I promised in the end. "We need their harvest!"

Lord Durran snorted.

"I will see to it that my host is assembled and ready by the time you leave," he promised. "Will you accompany them."

"Have them rendezvous with Lord Tyrell en route," I said. "I'll give you the details once I clear it with the king."

"It'll be done Your Grace," Lord Durran promised me.

"Did you tell your brother the good news?" I asked as I drained the wine cup. "He needs to get started on his new job before anything else is done."

"I did," Lord Durran grinned. "He is ready to serve the king and the Realm."

"It's best if he left for King's Landing as soon as possible," I said. "I can fly him there but I assume he will be bringing some men with him as well."

"I'll have him ready to be on his way within the next two days," Lord Durran promised. "And perhaps Your Grace can take him on dragonback, and then his retinue can join him later."

I thought about it, "Good plan. Let's do it."

"I will see it done Your Grace," Lord Durran said and got up from his seat. "Forgive me. But I must retire for now. This wine really is going to my head."

I said good bye to him and collapsed back into my chair then ordered Jasper to close the door to the room and lock it.

Today had been an absolutely stressful day.

Honestly, pulling off that coup against Daeron had been easier.

I planned to spend this night drinking until the stress bled out.

Then I'll lock myself in my room and sleep the sleep of the utterly drunk.

"Just give me the jug Jasper."

"You're certain Your Grace?" he asked, and it was endearing to see the concern in his eyes.

"I'm certain," I said and snatched the wine jug from his hand. Then I paused. "Jasper? Be a dear and make sure no one murders me if I end up passed out drunk?"

He drew himself up and saluted with his blade before his face, "Yes Your Grace!"

He used a fire poker taken from the fireplace, but I saw a sword in my minds eye.

Maybe it was the wine?

+page break+

The next morning, I almost regretted the wine.

But it had given me the first good nights sleep since we had dethroned Daeron, so I only _almost_ regretted it.

Besides, with my room locked and the door barred, there was nothing much to worry about.

"You're looking much fresher today Your Grace," Lady Baratheon said as we sat in her solar.

"I had a good nights sleep," I smiled. "I was just what I needed."

"It's important for a lady to rest well," Lady Baratheon nodded. "We have it hard enough trying to heard all these men." She waved her hand. "I learned that when I first got married."

I grinned, "I'm starting to appreciate that My Lady. Managing menfolk is like herding cats no?"

The doors to the solar shook as someone pounded on them.

Lady Baratheon jumped, and then gestured for one of the servant girls to open the door.

A very worried Durran Baratheon stood framed in the door.

"Your Grace?" he babbled. "It's your boy? The Fell child? He assaulted Lord Dondarrion!"

I automatically looked at Lady Baratheon.

"Herding cats," she said.

Goddamit Jasper.

+page break+

I had chosen Jasper Fell to be my minion because of two things.

One, his little brother kept staring at my _chest_ when we took shelter at their keep, and he didn't. Two, he was the only son who accompanied Lord Fell to Storm's End.

But he seemed like a good lad.

Nice sense of justice, not one to abuse his position or generally be an asshole.

Now, standing in the courtyard with Lord Durran with the culprits facing us, I wondered if I may have made the wrong choice.

I pointed at Jasper, "You! Explain!"

He pointed at Dondarrion, "He was forcing himself on a servant girl, I told him to desist, but he ignored me, so I intervened!"

I closed my eyes.

Of course it was him being stupidly noble that set this in motion.

I pointed at Dondarrion, "Explain!"

He drew himself up and glared at Jasper, "I was with that wench willingly! This boy attacked me for no reason! He drew steel on me!"

I wanted to close my eyes again.

Drawing a weapon on a lord is a serious offense.

"I will speak to the girl," I said. "Where is she?"

They brought the girl to me, and once got her alone and promised her that she would be given a new life in King's Landing regardless of what happened here, she told the story.

Dondarrion had practically forced himself on her, and Jasper had stepped in before it could actually become rape.

" _Don't do anything stupid now_ ," Visenya said in my head.

Shut up.

"Well My Lord," I said as I turned to Lord Durran Baratheon. "What do you think."

He sighed and spoke quietly, "I think that Lord Dondarrion is here representing the Marcher Lords. He is their leader."

"So we let him get away with attempted rape?" I demanded.

"We can deal with him later, discreetly," he said. "For now, we need him."

I ground my teeth.

" _Don't do anything stupid!_ " Visenya said once more in my head.

Fine!

But he's going on my list.

But Dondarrion pissed all over our efforts to make a peaceful resolution.

"The boy assaulted me!" he snarled. "I demand a trial and he be punished!"

I honestly had no words.

Was he thinking straight? Was he working for someone? Was this part of a greater plan? Are we being set up?

Even as I watched, things spun out of control.

"A trial My Lord?" Lord Durran demanded. "You wish to call witnesses and be accused before all these assembled Lords? That is not a wise course of action…."

Lord Dondarrion smiled, "I demand trial by combat! I will prove the truth upon my body!"

"I accept!" and that was Jasper making it worse.

I blinked.

Oh.

Ohhh!

I suddenly saw it.

Jasper will be challenged by this ass. But he's my sort-of-squire. I'll have to defend him. Meaning I will end up fighting. And I might die. They will kill me, quite legally.

Fuck. Me.

This is karma.

+page break+

 **Chapter 16**

The first thing I did was twist Jasper's ear.

Then I turned on Lord Durran and demanded he put both culprits somewhere secure until we could sort things out.

They all agreed that this was a good idea.

So this resulted in both Jasper and Lord Dondarrion being held under guard in their rooms with every courtesy due their station.

Then we had to decide how to handle this situation.

The problem was that once the trial-by-battle had been called, we had no choice but to grant it. It was how it was done by the laws of the land.

This meant that one of us had to face him in a duel to the death.

Assuming we don't let Jasper fight himself.

I was seriously tempted to let Jasper meet his fate, but couldn't bring myself to do it.

"I will face him," I said to the small circle that had assembled.

Said circle had Lord Durran, Lord Steffon, Lord Fell, and Ser Harwyn.

I presented myself as his champion on the basis that he was in my service.

Yes, I was fully aware that by doing this I was risking everything on a single roll of the dice and this time it wasn't even over something vital to our mission.

But I was stupid like that.

Of course before I could put my life on the line, even more people joined our circus.

Because Lord Durran stepped forward and stated that, as I was his guest, he had to face Dondarrion.

Of course, he too was aware of just what he was risking by doing this. If he were to die, all the hard work we did to unite the Stormlands behind Daemon was down the drain. We'd be back to square one.

And he knew this, but wanted to fight anyway.

We had so much in common.

Then, because it wasn't enough, Lord Fell stepped forward to demand that he be allowed to fight in his son's defense.

Now this was the safe option.

Fell was not essential for our plans. His loss won't shatter our hasty alliance. He was quite disposable.

The only problem was, he gave us shelter.

I knew it was stupid, but I couldn't let him die.

Visenya yelled at me for a full hour for that choice.

It wasn't just stubbornness that made me stand up for Jasper.

I also didn't want Dondarrion to win.

If he defies me and gets away with it, then others will as well.

I had to crush him.

Make an example.

And the best way to do that was by having him put down by a female, preferably non-lethally.

I would just have to rely on my Valyrian Steel armor and the sword of the same metal to carry the day.

" _Stupid plan,_ " Visenya said. " _Look at him. That's not Daeron._ "

She actually had a point.

Lord Dondarrion was six feet and tall and had shoulders like an ox. If he was as skilled as he was built, then I'll have trouble.

I had bullied several knights to practice with me during my very brief stay at the Red Keep, and I knew that while I could fight with my passengers help, I wasn't an Arthur Fucking Dayne.

Could I do that thing from the Gladiator movie? Give him a wound just before the match?

" _These people are primitive! Not stupid!_ " Visenya yelled.

Yes, probably won't work.

I still stood by my original choice.

In the end, for good or ill, I got my wish.

I was committed to fight Lord Dondarrion in two days time.

+page break+

I was in an arena, built like the Colosseum in Rome.

Mist shrouded the stands, but I could see hundreds of people sitting on them and watching us through the shifting mist. Some of whom I recognized.

In the royal box, where the emperor would have sat in ancient Rome, sat Daemon, dressed in a purple toga and with a laurel wreath on his head.

But his throat was cut and his head hung limp.

His mother, Daena was standing next to him, seemingly uncaring that her son was dead next to her.

I was standing in the middle of the arena dressed in my Valyrian Steel armor, Dark Sister held in a two handed grip.

Lord Dondarrion faced me across the arena, wearing a breastplate and bracers over chain-mail. He wore a cylindrical helmet that completely covered his face and only left an eye slit and air holes as openings.

He carried a shield that bore the lightning bolts of his house, and had a mace as his primary weapon.

At some unseen signal, the both of us leaped forward, and he raised his shield to block my sword and brought his mace to smash against my flank.

I felt the blow even through my armor.

I staggered back and managed to bring up my blade to block the overhead blow of his mace, and the next two blows that came from the left flank, and the third blow that came from the right.

I backpedaled and just barely managed to avoid the shield strike.

I gritted my teeth and counterattacked.

My longsword feinted towards his face and once he raised his shield to guard himself, I redirected my strike towards his swordarm.

He blocked with his mace, the weapons clashing together and throwing up a storm of sparks.

Then he kicked me in the stomach.

I stumbled and fell on my ass.

On my back, I was unable to avoid the kick and loosed my grip on Dark Sister, taking the weapon away from my grasp.

The next kick landed on my jaw, right where my open faced helmet didn't offer any protection.

I screamed as my jaw shattered.

Through eyes blurred with tears, I saw the mace coming down on my head…..

I woke up covered in sweat, shaking and panting.

I blinked and looked around me.

I was still in my room in Storm's End.

A quick check revealed that my jaw wasn't crushed and my head wasn't cracked open.

It had been a dream.

" _A dragon dream_ ," Visenya corrected.

"What?" I asked. My mind wasn't exactly clear at that moment.

" _A prophetic dream that tells the future_ ," Visenya said. " _You know what they are. Like the dreams that foretold the Doom of Valyria? And just like that, this one foretold your dea_ _th_ _, and Daemon's_."

Bugger.

+page break+

 **Chapter 17**

The quick flight to the Kingswood took no time at all.

Once there I managed to find an unoccupied clearing and land, with Vhagar acting as a deterrent against anyone finding me.

"This had better work Visenya," I muttered.

" _We're out of options_ ," she snapped.

I had spent the morning paying a visit to the kitchens and getting to know the kitchen staff.

I then requested they pack me a picnic with a list of ingredients and foods I specifically wrote down.

Then I went to the maester and requested some medicines for myself, including milk of the poppy, which was another name for a very common substance back home, and some tinctures for headaches and stomach cramps.

Then I flew off into the Kingswood on Vhagar claiming that I wanted some peace and quiet.

Considering all the shit that had gone down, no one saw fit to deny me.

I had been following Visenya's instructions the whole day.

Once we were in the clearing, I set Vhagar to keep watch, and lit a small fire.

Then I unpacked my picnic basket and laid out the food on a spread out cloth.

I then pulled the medicines the maester gave me and laid them out next to the food.

Then I brought out a small wooden mortar and pestle I had lifted from the maester's study, pulled on a pair of gloves, and got to work.

"You are a woman of many talents Visenya," I said as I drew out ingredients and mixed them, extracting what I needed from the spread laid out on the cloth.

" _You don't conquer the Seven Kingdoms with just a dragon_ ," Visenya said. " _You need many skills to be a ruler._ "

"And one of them is poisoner," I asked as I continued working.

" _I prefer alchemist_ ," Visenya said primly. " _Now stir that mixture. Carefully_."

I had to give Visenya props.

She had figured out how to make a poison from just what we could extract from a picnic luch and some common medicines borrowed from the maester.

This woman was formidable.

" _While my sister was busy trying to sleep with every man even moderately acceptable, I was actually learning useful arts_ ," Visenya said. " _I did use a dragonglass candle to check on her, sometimes_."

Too much information.

" _Oh shut up!_ " Visenya snapped. " _Now light a candle from the fire, you need a small controllable flame for this, and heat the mixture until I tell you to stop_."

I very carefully did as she said.

You know, we could have just overdosed him with _Milk of the poppy_. God's what a ridiculous name.

" _That's too obvious_ ," Visenya said. " _We need something that will slip past any maester_. _Alright that's enough._ _Now scoop it up._ "

I had made my first official poison.

Well done me.

+page break+

How do you poison someone?

There were so many ways.

The Red Viper coated his weapons in the stuff. His main squeeze coated her lips in the stuff and kissed her target.

While dramatic, none of them were particularly subtle.

Everyone knew their victims were poisoned and just _who_ dunnit.

I couldn't have anyone finding out about what I was doing, so I had to use that old classic. Namely, putting it in his wine.

It also turned out to be ridiculously easy.

I visited Lord Dondarrion an hour or two before our fated duel, exchanged verbal abuse disguised as polite speech, and shared a cup of wine with him from the jug I had a servant bring in.

He outright asked me if I wanted to poison him, upon which I seized a cup myself and drank down a full cup, dispelling his suspicion.

Then all I had to do was drink the antidote once I was well away from the room he was held in.

Ridiculously easy.

So much so that I decided then and there to get a food taster.

+page break+

After that, I went and got Lord Fell, and then we both dropped in on where Jasper was being held and talked with him for a while before heading to where we were supposed to have the trial by battle.

I put on my armor with Jasper's help, and got ready to gamble my life on the battlefield for the second time.

Lord Dondarrion turned up as well, and armored himself with the aid of his squire.

Once we were both ready, the local septon called on the gods to gaze upon our battle and judge justly.

Then Lord Durran, who was acting as referee, commanded the battle to start, and we stepped towards each other.

Unlike in my dream, Lord Dondarrion was in full plate, and carrying a sword and shield.

His armor offered better cover than mine and covered him completely except for his eyeslit. But it was still inferior to Valyrian Steel.

Unlike him, my armor looked like the suits worn by the Kingsguard, complete with an open helmet that left my face exposed.

Also unlike him, I only had my longsword and no shield.

Visenya and I had both decided that mobility was our best advantage against our foe.

I opened the battle by feinting toward his face with Dark Sister and then redirecting the strike toward his swordhand.

He had raised his shield to block my feint but managed to angle his sword to both stop my cut and lock my blade into place.

I jumped back and backpedaled just in time to avoid a shield bash, and raised my sword to deflect the next sword stroke that came at my face.

I jumped back again and then immediately counterattacked, this time cutting at his legs.

This time I connected, but my sword couldn't pierce his armor and bounced off with a clang.

He took advantage of the fact that my strike at his legs almost unbalanced me and aimed for my head again, and I dropped to one knee to avoid the sword that flashed just above my head.

Still on one knee, I thrust towards his crotch, and he backpedaled this time and just barely managed to avoid my sword.

I rose to my feet and advanced, taking advantage of my lighter frame and nimbleness to rain blows on Dondarrion.

He blocked my blows with both his shield and sword, before taking advantage on one of my openings to counterattack and drive me back.

Then it was him on the attack and me on the defensive, as he rained blows relentlessly and advanced, and I just barely managed to deflect them and dodge the ones I couldn't.

After a while though, I saw signs that Dondarrion was starting to tire.

The tempo of his blows slowed, and his aim was starting to be just a little off.

I let him tire himself out for a few more attacks before counterattacking, rushing forward suddenly and slashing at his face, forcing him to jump back and block.

His reaction time was also off.

I jumped up and kicked him in his shield, forcing him to stumble backwards and used to moment of distraction to get behind him, and, before he could turn to face me, slid Dark Sister through the gap in his armor and cut the tendon on the back of his knee.

Lord Dondarrion howled as I hamstrung him.

I jumped away as he fell to one knee and flailed about with his sword.

Having followed the Red Viper's career with great interest, I didn't approach my crippled foe. Instead I stayed out of range and occasionally darted in to stab at him and waited till blood loss made him even weaker.

After that, it was simplicity itself to dart in, disarm him of his sword, then his shield, before sitting on him with one knee on his back, forcing his helmet open and opening his throat.

I killed my first man.

And I won the trial by battle.

+page break+

 **Chapter 18**

I ruined a man's life to make Daemon a king.

I killed a man to bring the Stormlands into the fold.

The longer I spent on Westeros, the more dirty my hands became.

Of course, no one else at Storm's End felt as if I had done anything wrong.

Lord Durran even moved onto the next item on the agenda.

Which was a tournament.

Or a tourney, as they called it here.

"We did it, Your Grace," Lord Durran said as we watched the knights go at each other from the stands. "We united the Stormlands behind the new king!"

"Yes," I said and grinned. "It was two months well spent."

It really had taken that long to bring the Stormlands around. But it was time well spent.

The heralds blew their trumpets to announce the next tilt.

"Ser Alyn Connington and Ser Arlan of Pennytree! Ride forth and prove your valor!"

I perked up.

Now there was a name I knew.

Ser Arlan of Pennytree had trained Ser Duncan the Tall and was known to be honorable and loyal. Depending on how he did, I wanted to offer him a place among my minions.

Excuse me, my guards.

"Ouch!" I said as Ser Connington unhorsed Ser Arlan in a single tilt and poor Ser Arlan went tumbling across the ground. "That had to hurt!"

"It was bad luck that he came against Ser Alyn," Lord Durran said. "Only my brother is a match for him. Pity he had to leave."

Ah yes. Lord Steffon had already left with his retinue to take up his new post as the Master of Laws. He should be in King's Landing by now actually.

"The Small Council will finally be complete with him taking up his seat," I said. And we were that much closer to a stable realm.

"Yes Your Grace," Lord Durran said. "But did you have to put the High Septon on the council? That was never done. Not even Baelor did that."

"Because it gives the faith too much power?" I said, taking care to keep my voice low. "At least this way we keep an eye on him. And the faith is an integral part of Westeros. We can't rule without the faith. Maegor proved that quite conclusively."

Lord Durran bowed his head, "That is quite true Your grace."

In the field, Ser Arlan limped off the field and Ser Alyn rode a victory lap.

I decided to send for Ser Arlan later.

If I remembered correctly, if a knight as unhorsed in a joust, his arms and horse were both forfeit and from then on belonged to the winning knight. And Ser Arlan didn't look that rich. If I help him out here, that might win over his loyalty.

It wasn't long before the herald announced the next match.

"Ser Harold Tyone and The Knight of the Wood! Ride forth and prove your valor!"

"The knight of the what now?" I asked as the two knights rode into the field.

"A mystery knight," Lady Baratheon said from where she was seated. "They crop up from time to time."

"Huh," I said and grinned.

This really is like a storybook if we have mystery knights.

I remembered reading _Ivanhoe_ by Ser Walter Scott in my other life. And the mystery knight scenes there were fun to read about.

Wait a minute….

That horse?

"That's Jasper isn't it?" I asked and groaned.

Lady Baratheon grinned behind her hand before saying, "So it would seem."

"Does he realize we can know him by his horse?" Lord Baratheon demanded.

"Oh hush," his wife said. "Let the boy have this."

Jasper, in his superhero identity, actually unhorsed Ser Harold Tyone on his tilt.

Of course he lost his seat in the very next tilt and was unmasked.

"His father is going to murder him," I said as Jasper limped away from the lists.

"He will shout at the boy. But I think the boy has learned his lesson on his own," Lord Durran said. "He can always pay his ransom out of his wages if he must be punished?"

"We'll see," I said. "He can always earn his forgiveness during the Reach campaign."

Leo Tyrell was already marching on Highgarden with a Crownlander host. Once there he will call his own banners and go around and pay house calls to those Reachlords who had refused to acknowledge Daemon. I was set to join him once this tournament was over.

"I will pray to the Seven that they may keep you safe and bring you back to us, Your Grace," Lady Baratheon promised.

"Don't worry," I told her as the next tilt started. "I'm sure this will be a really short campaign."

+page break+

The tournament continued like this for three full days, with a few knights distinguishing themselves.

The chief among them, and the favorite to win, was Alyn Connington, the eldest son of Lord Connington.

"Is he going to win?" I asked as he faced Lord Selmy in the final tilt.

"Lord Selmy does look larger and has a larger horse," Lady Baratheon said agreeing with me.

"Alyn has the better skill," Lord Durran disagreed. "Jousting is about balance and your seat. Size does not matter overmuch in this."

Sure enough, Ser Alyn sent Lord Selmy flying off his saddle in a single tilt, winning the tournament.

The crowd went wild.

Ser Alyn did a victory lap of the field, his lance held aloft. And stopped before Lord Durran so that he could receive the flower wreath that would crown the Queen of Love and Beauty.

He did another lap of the field to the cheers of the crowd, and came to a stop before…

…..me?

What is he doing?

In the back of my mind, Visenya was laughing hysterically.

Ser Alyn lowered the flower wreath into my lap.

Is he trying to stab me in a surprise attack?

The blunt lance can't do much damage, but I prepared to dodge just in case.

But the lance just sat there innocently, the flower crown still dangling.

I took it wordlessly.

I'm going to kill you Ser Alyn Connington.

I put on my best smile, "Ser Alyn. I'm touched by your valor! I ask this of you! Will you accompany me to the Reach where I am commanded to go by my king, and lend me the aid of your sword?"

As he accepted, I cackled evilly in my mind.

One heroic death, coming right up.

+page break+

 **Interlude**

"Alyn! If you barf on me, I swear I'll throw you off! Then I'll hunt you down in the Seven Hells and do it again!" Princess Visenya screamed.

That threat inadvertently caused his eyes to gaze down, towards the _sheer_ drop and the _steep_ mountains and the _jagged_ rocks that decorated their sides.

"Hrrrkk!" Alyn clamped his hands over his mouth and did his best to hold it in.

"Alyn! I swear to god!"

"Hrrrkkkk!" Alyn thumped fist against his own chest in a attempt to keep the vomit in, and his life safe.

Dimly he was aware that they were flying over the Mountains of the Moon. The great mountains that guarded the Vale of Arryn. Princess Visenya had told him that they were beautiful, especially when viewed from dragonback. But he was in no position to appreciate their beauty.

"We're almost there!" the princess called. "We just flew past the Bloody Gate! The road to the Eyrie from there is hard, but for us it's a short flight!"

"Oh thank the Seven!" he said in perfect sincerity, causing the princess to laugh.

The princes shouted at the great dragon in a language that he assumed was Valyrian, and the great beast flared it's wings and spun in what the princess had called a barrel roll.

Alyn screamed at the top of his lungs. Then he prayed to the Mother.

"Oh man up," the princess shouted over the wind whipping past them. "Look! There it is!"

He looked, and sure enough, there was the Eyrie.

The seat of house Arryn, it emerged out of the clouds like a dream castle, white walls and white slender towers with skyblue banners fluttering in the wind, bearing the moon and falcon of House Arryn.

The entire castle was a marvel, sitting atop an impossible to reach mountain.

Well, he amended to himself, almost impossible.

Even as he looked, the great dragon approached ever closer to the castle, closing the distance between them at a speed that put the best horses to shame.

They circled once around the castle before flying past the towers and the walls and landing in the castle courtyard with a thud that shook the ground.

At the princess's command, the great beast roared so loudly it must have announced their arrival to the entire keep.

"Alright my brave knight," the princess said. "Time to get off."

He was only too glad to do so, releasing himself from the bindings that kept him strapped to the saddle and tumbling to the ground before falling to his knees as his head swam at the sudden return to solid ground.

Next to him, the princess dismounted gracefully, landing on her feet with only a slight bending of her knees before she found her land legs again.

Then Alyn threw up on her boots.

The princess looked down on the mess, then turned to look at his terrified expression and smiled sweetly, "Alyn?"

"Yes, princess?" he found himself answering despite himself.

"You just volunteered to singlehandedly clean out Vhagar's teeth."

He whimpered.

+page break+

When Alyn finally managed to get to his feet and follow after the princess, he found her confronting a woman and a girl child.

They appeared to have been in the courtyard when the dragon landed, and hadn't managed to flee.

Both looked highborn, both from their looks and their gowns.

They also looked terrified.

"Greetings!" the princess was saying. "I'm Visenya Targaryen. And that is my mi… _knight_ , Alyn Connington. Who do I have the pleasure of addressing?"

Before the mother could answer, the little girl said, "He was sick on your shoes!"

The princess looked down, then at him.

He cringed.

"Yes sweetie, he did do that," she addressed the girl child again. "And he will be making amends for that, I assure you." He cringed again but the princess had turned her attention back towards the women. "And who might you be?" the princess asked the girl.

"I'm Alys Arryn!" the little girl said. Then, abruptly, "Will you take me flying on your dragon?"

At that the girl's mother burst into helpless laughter, and even the princess grinned.

"History is repeating itself," the princess said. "Yes dear, I will take you flying. For now though, I need to talk to your mother."

"I'm Lady Joanna Arryn, Your Grace," the girls mother said with a curtsy. "Welcome to the Eyrie."

"We're glad to be here," the princess said and smiled. "It's a beautiful castle. But we didn't come purely to enjoy the beauty of this place. The reason for our visit is to clear up a little misunderstanding." the princess never stopped smiling. "You see, when King Daemon called the great lords of the Seven Kingdoms to bend the knee, your husband, Lord Arryn, the Warden of the East and the Lord Paramount of the Vale, refused. I simply came to find out why."

"I…., well….., we….., he," Lady Arryn spluttered, her hands gripping her daughter tightly.

That was when the little girl interrupted again.

"My Lord father said that you didn't really have a dragon! He said that it was just stories!" she said innocently. "Are you the Queen Visenya from the story?"

"Buh?" the princess gaped at the tiny girl. Then grinned and she shook her head. "No Alys, I'm not her." Then she turned to Lady Arryn and addressed her next words to her. "If that is the only problem, I can clear up the issue quite quickly. Now please, may I speak to your lord husband?"

+page break+

And she did clear things up.

Lord Arryn came to meet them, squeaked in the most undignified fashion upon seeing the dragon, and quite quickly bent the knee and promised to get his lords to do the same.

The princess gave little Alys Arryn a ride on her dragon, flying thrice around the Eyrie.

Lady Arryn promised to come to court with her daughter and stay for a while, both as a gesture of goodwill and to act as her lord husbands voice in King's Landing.

Then they were ready to leave.

His princess had brought the Vale into the fold in less than a day.

"You know Alys," the princess said to the little Arryn as they prepared to leave. "Alyn here doesn't have the stomach for flying. He doesn't handle it near as well as you."

The little girl looked at him and stuck her nose in the air.

Alyn grumbled.

+page break+

 **Chapter 19**

My arrival in Highgarden should have been an occasion worthy of feast and song. It's not everyday that royalty visits after all.

But the place was buzzing with activity with all the soldiers already assembling and training in the land outside the castle. And no one really had the time to roll out the red carpet.

Oh they went through the motions. But it was overshadowed by the sense of urgency that underlay everything.

And that wasn't without taking into account the mood of the lord of the castle.

"Tell me what happened Leo," I fell into the chair and gave a halfhearted glance at the very tempting jug of wine.

No! Not the time for drinking. Remember the rules, no drinking during work.

"Sorry what was that?" I asked again, having missed what Leo Tyrell had just said. "Forgive me. I'm very weary after the flight and that business in the Vale."

Leo Tyrell winced and nodded, "That could have become a large thorn in his side for the king. You did well to bring such a peaceful end to what could easily have become a war against the Vale."

"That was all due to speed," I admitted. "Speed and a great deal of luck. If Lord Arryn hadn't been there when I flew in, it might have gone differently."

"The gods are with you, Your Grace," Leo Tyrell said. "Nothing but that could have aided you in bringing another kingdom under the banner of the king. The Kingdom of the Vale bending the knee in less than a day? Even Aegon Dragonlord lost his fleet to ruin before he could get the Vale to submit."

"Thank you," I said gratefully. Gods or no, it was good that someone knew just how much work I was doing. "Now, tell me what's wrong? I promise to pay attention this time."

"Are you sure, Your Grace?" he asked. "We can wait until you are rested."

"No, no," I said and waved my hand. "Tell me. That way I can sleep on the problem."

"As you wish, Your Grace," Leo Tyrell said and looked down at his hands. "After I arrived I called my banners, and most of my lords answered. But," he stopped and sighed. "Some of them defied me. Not only that…."

"Leo?" I asked and sat up straight upon seeing his face. "What happened?"

"My wife," he said and my breath caught. What had happened? "She's from House Ashford. Her brothers boy is fostered in Oldtown with the Hightowers. She was visiting Oldtown with my son when the news came that I had joined the king."

I did not like where this was going.

"What happened?" I asked again, really hoping that something unfixable had not happened.

"Lord Hightower seized them," Leo Tyrell said and looked at me with haunted eyes. "My wife and my son. My only male heir."

"Oh fuck me," I said and then jumped. "I'm sorry. What I meant was-"

But Leo Tyrell laughed and waved it away, "Don't fret, Your Grace. Trust me when I say that I cursed up a storm when I got the news."

"I can imagine," I said and looked at him. Really looked at him.

Now that I knew, I could see the weight on him. Like he had the world on his shoulders.

Poor bastard.

No one deserves this shit.

"I suppose it's pointless to ask if House Hightower stands in defiance of the king?" I asked more because I really didn't know what else to say.

He laughed mirthlessly and broke out even more bad news, "It's worse, Your Grace. House Redwyne is with House Hightower. Lord Redwyne is wedded to Lord Hightower's only sister. And the houses in the lands surrounding Oldtown? Some of them haven't answered my call, though they didn't openly defy me either."

I groaned and covered my face with my hand, "So! Hightower and Redwyne. Two of the strongest houses in the Reach, are in rebellion. Not only that, a number of lesser houses have joined them. And to make things worse, they have hostages. So no attacking them directly. Is there any other bad news?"

"Well….," Leo Tyrell said carefully.

"Oh god!" I said and closed my eyes. I didn't need this shit. "What is it? Just tell me."

"The Redwynes have ties to the Lannisters. Lord Damon's mother was Redwyne. And we have heard news that he's gathering forces at Casterly Rock."

What the fuck?

I didn't expect this type of stupid from the Lannisters. They had always been a calculating and pragmatic force.

I stopped and wanted to smack myself.

Tywin Lannister wasn't born yet. This was a different Lannister and might be a completely different person. The policy and ruling style of a house might change completely with the change in lordship. I can't calculate the reaction of this generation of a house by thinking about how their descendants would have acted a hundred years from now. Don't make stupid assumptions.

And get some sleep. You're not thinking straight.

"House Hightower is a surprise," I said out loud. "They took massive losses during the Dance. I didn't think they'd be so eager to tangle with another succession crisis so soon."

"You're not the only one to think so, Your Grace. I was also taken completely by surprise," Leo said. "All I know is that he's threatening to shed the blood of my wife and my son if I attack him."

"I… fuck!" I said and slumped in my chair. "I got nothing. My head isn't working. I hate to say this, but I need to sleep on this."

"No, you are correct," Leo said and stood from his own chair and gave me a bow. "We both need rest. Let us take this matter up again in the morning."

"Leo," I said as he reached the door and made to leave the room. "They won't get away with this. I swear it on…. The Seven Who are One."

He smiled tiredly at me.

+page break+

 **Chapter 20**

For a man worried about his wife and kid, Leo Tyrell had done a superb job.

The majority of the Reachlords had assembled and he had convinced them to join us.

The fact that the man could focus like this while in the middle of such personal tragedy convinced me more than anything else that we had made the right choice appointing him the Hand of the King.

Not wanting to waste his hard work, I spent the whole of the next day meeting and greeting them.

I wore my armor and carried my sword.

I wasn't stupid enough to be defenseless in a kingdom in rebellion.

Jasper and Alyn tailed behind me as extra protection, also clad in armor and wearing swords.

I also had Vhagar nearby, always.

+page break+

The first lord I met was Samwell Tarly.

He wasn't fat. He wasn't a scholar. And he certainly wasn't a softie by any stretch of the imagination.

No. This Samwell Tarly was six foot six, built like a brick shithouse, and sported a neatly trimmed black beard.

The sigil of House Tarly, a red huntsman drawing his bow on a green field, was emblazoned prominently on the surcoat that he wore over his armor.

"Your Grace!" he bowed low as he was introduced to me. "It's an honor to meet the noble lady who brought the dragons back to the Realm! We have heard so much about your deeds!"

"Oh? Only good things I hope?" I said and smiled. This man was naturally cheerful. Boisterous. It was refreshing after the doom and gloom of yesterday.

"Oh only the tales of your valor, Your Grace!" he assured me. "We heard how you fought the trial by battle in King's Landing, and how you fought one of the Marcher Lords in Strom's End."

"Dondarrion," I said and sighed. "Honestly, fighting Daeron was easy. Fighting Lord Dondarrion? Much harder."

"Ha! True!" Lord Tarly said with a grin. "Daeron was never a warrior. He was always too soft and never entered the lists."

"And you don't have issue with a woman fighting in such a duel?" I asked, mostly out of curiosity.

"Ha!" Lord Tarly cried again. "I guard the border to Dorne, Your Grace. I've seen woman warriors before. And I know not to underestimate them."

"I see," I said.

I like you Samwell Tarly. Provided you don't prove yourself to be all talk and no substance, I think we can work together.

Leo Tyrell had marked out the Tarlys as one of the houses that might give him trouble. It seems he was wrong in this instance.

The Tarlys had fallen into line quite nicely.

"Tell me more about your seat, My Lord," I said and smiled at him, gesturing towards the ever present wine. "I confess I do not know much about the Reach houses."

+page break+

If Samwell Tarly was a boisterous giant, then Lord Robert Ashford was a man at a funeral.

His already long face seemed longer thanks to the obvious worry on his face. And he seemed in no mood for jokes and small talk like Tarly had been.

"Your Grace," he said as soon as we were introduced. "I pray that you are planning to arrange the return of my sister and nephew. The longer they remain in the clutches of Hightower, the worse danger they are in."

And then there is that.

His sister is Leo's Wife. If I manage, through some miracle, to secure their release, then he'll be my most loyal vassal. But until I do, your loyalty is a little suspect.

"I assure you, My Lord," I said. "We're doing everything we can to get them back. And I will not hesitate to do anything that must be done. But I cannot do this alone. I need your help."

+page break+

But other lords, like Lord Merryweather, made it very hard not to burst out laughing, even in the middle of what was happening.

He was a fat, middle aged man with huge mutton chops and graying hair. The arms of House Merryweather prominently displayed on his tunic, stretching out half over his bulging belly.

Said arms were a golden horn spilling out apples, grapes, carrots and a bunch of other assorted vegetables.

When I saw him, all I could think of was a summer season Santa Claus.

I really wanted to laugh.

"Ho! Ho! This is an honor Your Grace!"

Oh god!

" _Don't you dare!_ " Visenya snapped.

I controlled myself with a great deal of difficulty, "The honor is mine, Lord Merryweather. I have that your house is one of the most….. prosperous in the Reach. Please, tell me about it."

+page break+

On the other hand, Lord Myles Rowan was a much more steady and logical man.

"Your Grace," he said with a bow. "It's an honor. I hope we can get the Reach to declare for the new king without creating another field of fire. We have seen far too much of _that_ in the Reach."

" _Oh don't you_ _just_ _wish_ ," Visenya said.

Oh shut up.

"That is my hope as well, My Lord," I said. "Believe me when I say that I do not wish for blood and death. Not on anyone. I will only act if my hand is forced."

He stared at me, then nodded, "That is good to know, Your Grace. I and my loyal men are ready to lend you our swords to bring peace to the Reach."

"Thank you, My Lord," I said. Rowan was a prominent house. And the strongest in the northern region of the Reach. If he would fall in line without trouble, it'd be a boon. "Let us speak of this further."

"Of course, Your Grace," he said and seated himself at my gesture. "But I must also warn you. There are rumors that Damon Lannister is amassing men at the Rock. If he marches south, then he will come through my lands and the lands of my bannermen."

Bugger.

Of course it isn't that easy.

"I understand, My Lord," I said and hitched a comforting smile onto my face. "I swear to you, I will not abandon you if that were to happen."

Now I understand why Darth Vader followed the Force Choke method of diplomatic discourse. He could just choke out the people that disagreed with him and get things done. If you tried to make everyone happy, then you'll be stuck making everyone happy and get nothing done.

+page break+

Though the day wasn't entirely wasted making nice with the Reachlords.

I also got a new minion out of it.

Bethany Butterwell. Seventeen years old, or seven and ten according to the local slang. The eldest daughter of Lord Butterwell, who was Daeron's Hand.

She was slim, brown haired and brown eyed, and quite pretty.

Officially she was my lady in waiting.

Unofficially, she was to ensure her father's good behavior.

"Hello dear," I told the gaping girl. She seemed unable to take her eyes off Vhagar. "I hope you do well in my service."

She squeaked.

Yeah, she's going to need some work.

Along with Bethany, who was mostly useless right now, there were Jasper and Alyn. Those three made up my personal minions.

Other than them, there were a troop of Goldcloaks under the command of a Crownland knight. Sent by Daemon to accompany Leo Tyrell and serve as my guard.

That gave me some twenty three people to work with. I was leery about trusting the Reachlords until they have fully pledged themselves. And even Leo Tyrell was a bit iffy right now.

With just these few, I had to pull a solution to this problem out of my ass.

+page break+

 **Chapter 21**

Getting into Oldtown was easy.

It was a thriving metropolis. Not as large as King's Landing. But large enough to hold a couple of hundred thousand people.

Such a city is almost impossible to completely shut down unless there is an army sitting outside. And since Leo Tyrell was still busy securing the rest of the Rech and mustering an army large enough to march on Oldtown, the city was still open for business.

People could come and go, except they had to pass by the gate guards who poked and prodded every wagon and questioned each newcomer about their intent.

I just waltzed upto the city gates with Alyn in tow, him in the guide of a hedge knight and riding the most woebegone horse I could find, and me in the guise of a commoner woman riding the mule he was leading side saddle.

Of course, I was in disguise.

My hair was dyed black. I had covered both my body and my hair with a liberal coating of dirt. Even my teeth were browned with the aid of paint. Over all this I was dressed in a coarse woolen gown with a shawl wrapped around my head.

At the gates, a pair of Hightower guards stopped us and looked us over.

"Who are you, Ser? And who is the wench?" That was one of the guards.

I gritted my teeth and kept my head down.

"Ser Duncan the Tall!" Alyn proclaimed. "I'm Ser Duncan the Tall. A hedge knight from the Riverlands! I heard that Lord Hightower was seeking swords and came to see if I could find service."

I couldn't help it. Sue me.

"And the wench?" the guard demanded. I carefully made note of his face.

"She wanted to seek her fortune," Alyn said the lines we practiced. "I offered to bring her here safely."

"Very well," the guard said. "You may enter. Both of you. It's true that Lord Hightoer could use more swords. And see that the wench stays out of trouble."

" _You are mad!_ _Not even I ever did something this stupid_ ," Visenya screeched from within the depths of my mind.

I ignored her.

And we passed beneath the gates into Oldtown.

+page break+

Oldtown was a beautiful city with stone buildings and cobbled winding streets. The city itself covered both sides of the river, with slender bridges linking the two sides. The Citadel. The greatest seat of learning in the entire fucking continent, was in this city. The greatest library in the known world was in this city. That alone earned it points in my eyes.

And most important of all, this place lacked the _smell_ of King's Landing.

"Alright," I said as the two of us led our mounts through the streets. "Phase one complete. Now to execute phase two."

"This is madness!" Alyn whispered. "Utter madness!"

"Oh hush Ser Duncan," I said. "You'll never get anywhere with this _safety first_ approach! You need to laugh in the face in danger!"

"We're going to die!" he moaned.

"Heroically!" I corrected.

He moaned again, "What are we doing next, Y….Jenny?"

"We need to find Tom Riddle," I said, giving the codename we had given Lord Hightower. Get it? Because it's better than saying you-know-who?

" _You. Are. Terrible_ ," Visenya said grumpily.

Silence from the peanut gallery!

"How?" Alyn asked quite sensibly. "We can't just march up to the Hightower and ask to see him? Not in this state?"

"You present yourself at the tower and search for them. I'll do the same but as a servant," I said. "We just need their location. Once we have that, we can get things moving."

"This can go wrong so bad….," Alyn said and stopped abruptly. "Look! Over there?"

I looked.

It was a man on a palanquin.

The palanquin bore the colors of House Hightower, and was accompanied by two dozen guards wearing house colors over their armor and armed with sword and spear.

"Who is that?" I asked a passerby.

"That's our Lord Hightower," the woman said. "Making his way to the brothels like he does everyday."

"I see," I grinned and turned to my knight. "Shall we?"

There is a god.

And he loves me.

+page break+

The brothel was a really posh establishment.

Definitely reserved for the upper classes, no smallfolk served here.

It even had a pair of guards at the door, with a little courtyard to serve as parking space. It currently held the palanquin with the Hightower guards milling around it.

"Follow me," I said and marched up to the brothel doors.

"What do you want?" one of the guards at the door demanded.

Ah, an excellent question.

I couldn't exactly say that I'm here to beat one of your clients to within an inch of his life.

"I'm looking for work!" I announced. I'm fighting to save the world. Sacrifices must be made.

Behind me, I heard Alyn stumble.

The guard looked me up and down. Then grunted, "Go in and talk to Mathilda."

I marched right past the guards into the brothel.

+page break+

The interior of the brothel was better than some keeps I had been in.

Lamps hung from the ceiling, alongside incense burners. Couches loaded with cushions lined the walls, occupied by scantily dressed girls.

The only thing marring this heavenly scene was the obvious pair of lordlings standing in the middle of the room.

"I'm looking for Mathilda!" I announced into the room, causing everyone present to turn and look at me.

"Why?" the question came from an older woman who stepped out from behind the two lords. "What do you want girl?"

"I'm looking for work!" I announced again, keeping an eye on the two lords. I had to positively identify Lord Hightower. Once I knew, I could move.

The lordlings laughed, both of them.

"See to her Mathilda!" one of them said. "Such an eager maid deserves to be served before us!"

The woman, Mathilda, sighed and stepped up to me, looking me up and down. I however, was looking at the two lords.

One of them was wearing high tower colors and was in his thirties, with blonde hair and beard. He was fit enough, but nothing impressive. He also fit the description I had of Osmund Hightower. The other had Mediterranean features and was clean shaven. He was tall, slim, and quite attractive. Not Targaryen attractive, but handsome.

Who was he?

The Hightower man saw me looking and smiled at me.

Come to think of it, they probably mistook my interest for something else.

I decided to take a chance.

"Forgive me milords," I said and bowed. "I do not know you. I beg your forgiveness if I interrupted you."

The Hightower lord smiled at me, while the other one shook his head in amusement.

"It's alright sweetling," the Hightower lord said. "What is your name?"

"Jenny milord," I said. It was the Westeros equivalent of John Smith.

"I'm Osmund Hightower," he said with just a slight emphasis on the name. "The lord of House Hightower."

Jackpot!

Time to get this show on the road!

I acted suitably impressed, and he laughed again.

Meanwhile, I slipped my hand into a pocket built into the skirt of my dress and gripped the small dragonglass shard that was there. I ran my index finger over it before I squeezed until I felt the pain of my skin breaking and the blood ooze out of my finger.

I closed my eyes and mentally muttered a prayer to Belarion, the dragon god of old Valriya. The deity that, according to legend, gave the old dragonlords the lore on how to bond with their dragons, giving them the power to conquer the world. The scent of copper filled my nostrils and the taste of salt filled my mouth.

" _Vhagar_ ," I called. " _To me_!"

I opened my eyes again. And I could see that less than a second had passed in the real world. I had worked magic, and no one knew. Now I just had to keep him here until Vhagar got here.

However, my thoughts were derailed and my attention was brought back to Mathilda when she whacked the side of my head.

"Look at me girl!" she snapped. "Where are you from?"

"Pennytree in the Riverlands," I said. "I started traveling when my family died."

"You're pretty enough," she said. "Are you a maid?"

I blinked. Well I really should have seen that coming. I steeled my heart and focused on the greater good, "Yes, I am."

Mathilda nodded, "Take your dress off."

I blinked again. Then I stopped my automatic reaction with an _enormous_ effort before looking at Hightower again. I had to keep him here until Vhagar got here. I had to focus on the greater good.

So I gave Hightower a smile before I reached up and undid the laces on my dress and let it fall to the ground, before doing the same to my small cloths, letting both fall to the ground.

Hightower stared at me. Of course he wasn't looking at my face.

I vowed to castrate him.

Keeping that image on my mind helped me keep my composure.

Behind me, I heard someone else enter the brothel, and then that someone whimpered.

I turned my head and looked over my shoulder to meet Alyn's eyes before winking at him and trying to telepathically convey to him that he should keep his mouth shut in this situation. And also just what I would do to him if he fucked this up.

He obviously got the message. There was an exquisite moment where Alyn fought for control, and he won. He closed his eyes and looked anywhere but at me, and he seemed resigned to the situation.

When I turned my head back, Mathilda was talking again, "If you're a maid you can wait for your first time with someone who will pay good-" That was as far as she got before she was interrupted.

"Actually Mathilda," Lord Hightower said. "I'll have her."

And the gods keep helping me. Let's see if they'll help me further. "Shouldn't I, uh, get ready first?" I said and gestured at my unkempt appearance.

Mathilda, that sweet woman, agreed. "It will take some time to bathe her and dress her properly milord."

Hightower waved a dismissive hand, "I'll wait and take a cup of wine while she prepares for me."

Success!

As I was led away, I heard Alyn say, "I, uh, I would um, like girl?"

+page break+

The _preparation_ that Mathilda spoke of involved a scented bath and a thorough scrubbing, before my hair was untangled and brushed out by a pair of girls. I was ever so thankful that my hair dye could only be washed out by a special concoction or lots of lye.

Those Tyroshi didn't fuck around when it came to hair dye.

It was the Tyroshi merchant that I had gotten my hands on in Highgarden that had also told me to dye both the hair on my head and the hair on my….. other places. Despite slapping him at the time. Now I was ever so thankful for that. Because that would have given the game away the moment I disrobed.

The moment I got back, I'm ordering my guard to release him and rewarding him with whatever he asks. Within reason.

In the present time however, once I was bathed and my hair was all brushed out, there came the jewelry that was blatantly fake and the dress that was made out of a lot of silk strips held together by other silk strips.

I kept my composure by making vague plans to seduce Daena while decked out in something like this.

Though how would Daemon react to me seducing his mom?

Would this be the act that would create another Redgrass field?

Then it was over, and I was pointed at a room that held Lord Hightower.

He was alone in the room, with the other one nowhere in sight. I assumed he was in another room, like poor Alyn.

I just had to keep his attention focused on me until Vhagar got here. That was my main objective. It shouldn't be too difficult. I had a wealth of background material to draw upon after all. Also, who said that watching internet porn was useless?

"You're friend is not here milord?" I asked as I walked towards him and gave him a once over. No weapons other than a dagger, and absolutely no armor. I ran my hands along his waist and started to undo his belt. "I hope he didn't get bored."

"Oh no," Hightower said with a grin as I removed his belt with it's attached dagger and tossed it aside "He's with another girl. Though he's too drunk to do much of anything!"

"I see," I said and started to get his tunic off him even as his arms ran along my sides and back, sadly left exposed by the dress. "Is he a great lord like you?" I asked as I tugged the tunic off his head and stepped back to kneel and work on his trousers.

"Not like me sweetling," he said as I tugged his trousers down and then his small cloths, exposing a crotch that had never been shaved or cleaned properly. Seriously, this place needs good hygiene lessons. "He's a Redwyne and half Dornish. "

Ho! Ho! I had studied the lords of the Reach, and I knew who the Half Dornish Redwyne was. Ser Jason Redwyne. The son of Lord Redwyne's first marriage. Aren't we on a roll?

I stood up and with one hand on his, guided him away from his discarded trousers and smallcloths towards one of the couches in the room. "Dorne?" I said as I steeled my courage and ran my hands over his chest. "They say that it will be burned down now that the dragons are back."

"Ha!" he laughed and slid his arms around me and pulled me towards him. "Even if there are dragons sweetling, _we_ have nothing to fear!"

"Oh?" I asked as I pressed myself against him and slid my leg between his legs. I was feeling him out to give him a good kick between the balls. But he probably got the wrong idea. I knew this because I felt his dick harden. "How can a mortal man fight a dragon? The folk are all terrified of what might happen."

He laughed again and slid his hands into my dress. "You needn't fear sweetling. I have a weapon that can stop a dragon in it's tracks." He said this while groping my…. Chest.

"Oh?" I reached up and kissed him full on the mouth. I must do what I must for the greater good. "A magic sword?"

"A magic horn!" he groaned out and my eyes widened. "And I'm the only one who knows how to use it!"

" _A Dragonhorn?_ _That won't work on a bonded dragon_ ," Visenya said. " _But we need to get it away from him before we make new riders_."

I know. For now though, let's focus on the soon to be eunuch.

At that exact moment, an earthshaking roar filled the air, and the entire building shook as something landed on it.

"What the fuck is that?" Osmund Hightower yelled and jumped back, completely letting go of me.

"Oh that," I smiled sweetly at Osmund Hightower. "That's my dragon."

Then I stepped forward and kneed him in the balls.

+page break+

 **Chapter 22**

Then I grabbed the jug of wine on a nearby table and broke it across his head, causing him to collapse in a groaning, wine soaked, heap.

This gave me the time to bend down, grab the dagger and belt I discarded earlier, and tie his hands behind his back after rolling him over and sitting on him. Then it was a simple matter of hauling him to his feet by yanking him to his feet and putting the dagger to his throat.

"What? What the fuck?" he groaned.

"Hush Osmund," I snapped. "The adults have work to do. Be a good boy and stay silent."

At that moment, the door to the room burst open and Ser Redwyne the Half-Dornish burst in, looking absolutely panicked and wearing absolutely no cloths.

"My lord! There's a fucking dragon…..." he cut off abruptly when he saw the sight before him. Osmund Hightower tied up and me holding a dagger to his throat. "What the fuck are you doing?"

In the next moment, Alyn ran into the room, still fully dressed and with his sword drawn. "Your Grace!" he yelled. "Are you alright?"

"Alyn," I said calmly, my eyes clicked over to Ser Jason Redwyne. "Seize him!"

Alyn obeyed instantly, and his blade slammed towards the unprotected neck of the other knight just as Jason Redwyne spun to face the newcomer, letting Alyn's sword prickle the skin on his throat.

Jason Redwyne froze.

Outside, I heard Vhagar roar again and the night lit up with her green fire.

"Tie him up Alyn," I commanded. "And you! If you try anything, then your boy here bites it." I drew a thin line across the throat of the naked Lord Hightower with my dagger, and he shouted in panic.

"Fuck! Fuck!" Osmund Hightower shouted. "Do as she says Jason."

Jason Redwyne offered no resistance as Alyn tied him up with silks and cloth torn from the room.

Then we left the room with my blade to Osmund Hightower's throat. I led with Osmund as a human shield, and Alyn brought up the rear and covered my back.

We left Jason Redwyne tied up in the room. No need to be needlessly cruel.

+page break+

We got down the stairs and into the front room of the brothel with no trouble at all. Anyone with any sense having fled. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see a face or two peeking out from the rooms of the brothel, though no one dared interfere.

Outside the scene was chaos.

The courtyard of the brothel was littered with corpses. The charred black caricatures of men, laying on the stones that were red and half melted from the heat of the dragonfire. And looming over it all, was Vhagar.

I broke into an involuntary smile upon seeing her despite the grizzly scene. Being separated from her was never easy.

It wasn't a hard guess that they were the guard that came in with Hightower. Vhagar didn't take well to threats, and she probably roasted them the moment one of them drew a weapon.

Osmund Hightower moaned at the sight.

"If you don't want this to be the future of your house, then you'll do as I say! Understood?" I growled in his ear and he nodded rapidly. "Good!" I gestured towards Vhagar. "We're going for a ride."

Alyn guarded Osmund while I mounted up, and then we both hauled Osmund onto the saddle and tied him on in front of me using the straps I normally used to secure Dany and Sheira when I took them flying. Then Alyn mounted up behind me and we were ready.

"All aboard," I smiled and prickled Osmund's neck with the dagger. He groaned. "Vhagar! Sōvegon!"

Vhagar took off, her great wings flapping and sending great gusts of wind across the buildings.

Alyn gripped me tighter, and I heard him mutter what sounded like a prayer. As for Hightower, he didn't even bother trying to keep his voice down. He flat out screamed and uttered a prayer to the Mother that I had heard in the Sept of Baelor.

"Whoohoo!" I cheered as we flew towards the high tower of the Hightowers. I was feeling lightheaded and wild! Part of it was the joy of flying, it always managed to take my worries away. The other part was how well things were going. "Almost there! Osmund? Where are Lady Tyrell and her son?"

"I don't..." he said and then screamed when I lowered my blade to his testicles and poked lightly. "They're in their rooms in the tower! I haven't harmed them!"

"Good!" I said and removed my blade. "Next stop, the tower that's compensating for it's owners tiny dick!"

Behind me, Alyn burst into hysterical laughter.

+page break+

The Hightower didn't have a courtyard for me to land in, so I was forced to land before the bridge that led to the tower, well out of the range of the weapons mounted on the giant structure.

"Alright Osmund," I said. "Do your thing!"

I had told him just what to say, and Osmund didn't disappoint, "Get Lady Tyrell and her son here!" He screamed at the pair of guards who were watching us with dropped jaws. "This is a command from your Lord! Go!"

"And tell his wife I caught him in a whorehouse!" I yelled at their retreating backs.

"You will let me go when they are given to you?" Osmund asked. "Will you let me go free?"

"Yes Osmund," I grinned and tickled his throat with my dagger. He became very still. "Don't you want to come to Highgarden with me? I thought you wanted me."

"That was before all this happened!" Osmund yelled. "Now I just want to go back to my wife!"

I burst out laughing, "And you will never be unfaithful to her again?" He shook his head.

Well I'd done at least one good thing today.

Even as we talked, I saw a group of people making their way over to us.

I could see a dozen guards, a half dozen nobles, and two woman and a kid.

As they approached I turned my head to speak to Alyn, "Those woman? Do one of them look like Lady Tyrell?" Alyn had actually seen the woman in question during a tournament. One reason I brought him along.

"The one with the boy child," Alyn whispered back. "That's her."

I grinned, "Excellent!"

The group drew closer, and Osmund did my work for me, "Send Lady Tyrell and her son forward!" he yelled out. "Only them!"

Lady Tyrell and the kid came forward, but the other woman marched forward with them too.

I frowned, "Who the fuck is that?"

"My wife!" Osmund said and winced.

"Oh!" I said and didn't bother hiding my grin. " _Someone_ is in hot water! You might as well come with us son!"

"You!" Lady Hightower screeched as she drew close. "What did you do to my husband?"

Now that's just rude!

"I found him being unfaithful to you in the local whorehouse and trussed him up," I explained things to her as Osmund cringed. "But I'll leave him here for you to deal with shall I? Lady Tyrell? Please mount up. Alyn? Help her!"

Alyn swiftly dismounted and walked forward to force Lady Hightower back at sword point before escorting Lady Tyrell and her son towards us and proceeding to help then into Vhagar's back and strap them in. Threatening growls from Vhagar kept the onlookers back.

"Now let my lord husband go!" Lady Hightower demanded. Is she Actually going to forgive him? Well, not my problem.

"I keep my oaths," I said and released the bindings keeping him in the saddle before pushing him off, causing him to fall off Vhagar and onto the ground, where he struggled to get up.

"And Osmund?" I yelled out, causing him to look up at me. "You have three days to lower your banners and surrender to Leo Tyrell, or Oldtown will burn!"

As he gaped at me, I looked down at my dragon. "Vhagar! Sōvegon!"

+page break+

 **Chapter 23**

Lord Osmund didn't surrender the Hightower or Oldtown. And by the time our army marched in and laid siege to the city, he still hadn't sent his submission.

My guess was that he was counting on his Dragon Horn.

Sadly, his knights and bannermen didn't have the same confidence in his magic horn.

Which was why the Tyrell army found the gates of the city open when they arrived, with hastily made Blackfyre banners flying from the walls and towers. And to add the icing on the cake, a group of knights rode out of the city and delivered Lord Osmund Hightower to us in chains.

The Tyrell army marched into the city with absolutely no resistance.

The garrison was disarmed and placed under guard, the tower searched from top to bottom, the remaining lords and their families arrested, and we situated ourselves in the high tower.

And I was free to have some pointed words with Osmund Hightower.

The idiot had nearly started the very war I had tried so desperately to avoid, forced me to pull off a Seal Team Six style rescue mission, and worst of all….. He _molested_ me.

+page break+

"Must we do this?" Leo asked me as we took our places in the great hall the day after the surrender. "I'm angry myself, yes. But this is excessive."

"King's orders," I said as I took the throne like chair. "We need to make an example. And this will secure House Tyrell in the Reach for hundreds of years. This will put an end to the infighting in the Reach and bring stability. What's one man when measured against that?"

"I know," Leo said. The chain that denoted him the Hand of the King winked in the light coming off the windows. "I know what my duty is. I know this is best for my house. But I also don't want to ruin a man like this."

"Fine!" I snapped. Because I knew where this was going. "He gets the Wall? I can stretch the king's command that far. Happy?"

"I….. Thank you," Leo said. "You are merciful."

"That is as far as I'll go Leo," I said in warning. "The rest happens as planned. Don't try my patience."

"I will not object," he promised.

I sighed, the anger suddenly draining out of me, leaving just tiredness, "You're a good man Leo. Better than me."

"A lord must not give into anger," he said. "He must especially never make a ruling while angry."

"I will keep that in mind," I promised.

At that moment the court began, with the lords and knights of the surrounding area trooping in. Once Oldtown had fallen, the rest of the surrounding houses had capitulated quite easily, and their members had come to the city to meet the conquerors.

The final arrivals were the Hightowers.

They marched in under guard. Lord Hightower, his wife, his two sons, his brother, his brother's wife, and their son and daughter. Finally there was Lord Hightower's uncle, an old man who looked to be in his sixties.

I sighed and tried to center myself.

It's a sad day when a man with a middle ages education, especially one who grew up in a society as fucked up as this, must give moralistic advice to _me_.

He's right though. I can't make choices while angry.

There have been far too many of those lately.

I drew in another breath and promised myself that I'd be calm. Then I stood and addressed the court.

"My Lords and Ladies, and valiant knights," I began. "Three months ago, a new age dawned, Daemon of House Blackfyre, the First of His Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and the Protector of the Realm, ascended the throne by the grace of the gods!"

I swept my gaze across the hall. Everyone was watching me in utter silence.

I smiled and spoke again, "He called on the lords of the land to come to him and swear their oaths to him. Some of them answered, and some of _you_ , did not."

More silence. You could have heard a pin drop.

"Here, in this very tower, the seeds of rebellion were planted." I pointed dramatically at Osmund Hightower, who looked down. "You! You violated guest right and seized the wife of the Lord Hand. And worse you seized his child. You almost started a rebellion that would have seen the Reach burn!"

This time, whispers swept the hall, and the Hightower women were weeping.

I raised my voice and raised the hand I was pointing at Osmund, and clenched it into a fist, "This is nothing less than treason! And the punishment for treason is death!"

And there my voice was drowned out by the woman wailing and asking for mercy, and the Tyrell men trying to restore order.

"Do not fear!" I proclaimed once order was restored. "The king has commanded me to show mercy!" I gestured to the minor lords and the knights. "Most of you were led astray by Lord Hightower, and did not raise arms against the king's men. So you will be pardoned if you bend the knee to the king and proclaim your allegiance. I will accept the oath in the King's place."

There were falling over themselves to agree.

Seriously? Loyalty in this place was fickle.

It's understandable why the greatest players of the game were so paranoid if this is what they had to deal with.

"However," I said when that farce was over. "That still leaves House Hightower. The house that started this rebellion! By rights I should have their heads!" I took a deep breath. I had promised Leo. And he was right. "But I will spare your lives!"

Osmund Hightower gaped at me. I got the feeling that he had expected to loose his head.

"Osmund Hightower!" I proclaimed. "You and every male of your house will take the black and serve the Night's Watch for the rest of your days!"

There were shouts and protests from the rest of the men and the boys, but I ignored them. Considering that I had wanted to castrate him and that Daemon had given me his blessing to act as I saw fit, this was quite generous.

"Silence!" I roared. "The alternative is the block! Would you rather have that?"

They chose the Wall.

"As for you," I turned to the Hightower women, and hesitated. I had meant to send them to the faith. But Leo's words echoed in my head. "With your former husbands at the wall, your marriages are no longer valid. You can return to your families or join the faith."

And just like that, House Hightower had no members.

"I declare House Hightower extinct!" I proclaimed. "Oldtown and it's territories will be governed by Lord Tyrell's eldest daughter and her lord husband once she is of age and wed! Until then they will be administered directly from Highgarden!"

A house that had ruled since the First Men came to Westeros, and I had wiped them out.

Do not provoke the dragon.

+page break+

"This is it then?" I asked Alyn as I ran my hands over the giant horn.

"According to the Hightower men it is, Your Grace," he said.

Visenya said that it matched the description of a Dragon Horn, though she never saw one herself. I myself had no idea what one of these looked like, so had to rely on others to guide me here. But it certainly looked authentic. Made out of a blackened ivory like substance with bands of Valyrian Steel wrapped around it and carved with the images of dragons in flight.

Alyn had personally searched for it on my orders and found it remarkably quickly.

Alyn was proving himself to be thoroughly reliable and loyal as time went on.

I had pretty much decided that he won't be getting a heroic death at this point.

He was actually quite endearing when compared to mongrels like Hightower.

"Lock it in the chest," I ordered. "Do it personally. It goes back to the king. You you will not speak of this to anyone!"

"Yes, Your Grace," he bowed. "Shall I add it to the loot train?"

"No," I shook my head. I dared not. The risk of it getting lost was too high. "I'll take it personally."

+page break+

 **Chapter 24**

Less than a week later, I deeply regretted my decision to sent Hightower to the wall.

I should have taken a leaf out of Vlad the Impaler's book and used him to make a _point_.

I should have pulled a Bolton and flayed him.

As a matter of fact, I still had someone I could do all of that to.

"How did this happen?" I demanded from the man standing between two Tyrell knights. "You are Redwyne's son and heir. How did this happen with you here?"

Jason Redwyne looked just as angry as I felt, "My lord father's wife! She has a son of her own, but he's so young. Just one and ten. She could have persuaded my lord father to abandon me and name him heir!"

"Just like that?" I asked. "He would cast aside his eldest? Just like that?"

"Unless she did something to him," Jason Redwyne frowned. "She might have. My lord father is old, and I was set to succeed him soon. I should have known that she'd seize an opportunity like this!"

"You should have known that opposing the Iron Throne was a bad idea!" I snapped. "What could you even hope to gain? It's obvious that this last bout of insanity from the Redwynes is not your doing. But before that? Did you have a plan? Because this whole situation is quite suspicious."

Jason Redwyne was silent.

I sighed, "Jason, Jason. Do you realize just how…. Replaceable you are? I can write a letter to Lady Redwyne and confirm your little brother as the new lord of your house." I smiled and he lost all color in his face. "That'll leave you without a leg to stand on. And I can deal with you at my leisure. There are so many things I wanted to do to Hightower but couldn't because I showed him mercy." Jason Redwyne liked his lips. "I can do them to you instead. And in case you're getting the wrong idea, most of them start with me gelding you with a blunt knife."

I waited as Jason Redwyne thought it over. At one point he looked at the open window of the room as if he wanted to jump off it. Or maybe he was planning a James Bond style escape where he made an arching leap from the Hightower into the river and swam to a waiting ship.

In the end however, he sighed and hunched in on himself.

"I don't know the full plan," he admitted. "But Lord Hightower assured my father that he had a way to deal with your dragon, and that all the new kings power rested on that. If the dragon were gone, then the king will fall."

True enough, but we're working on that. And it might already be too late to pull that stunt. Both Baratheon and Tyrell were firmly with us now. They had ample reason to defend the new dynasty, and if Daemon and Dany prove themselves as fertile as they were in the other timeline, they will have more in less than a decade.

"And Hightower?" I asked. "What would he gain? What's his stake in all this?"

"He," Jason Redwyne hesitated and I raised an eyebrow. He sighed. "He wanted to be named Lord Paramount and replace the Lord Hand. He, he spoke of restoring Daeron with the combined power of the Reach."

Oh.

If I had come to the Reach first without uniting the Vale and the Stormlands? And if Hightower's plan to kill Vhagar and me, or take control of Vhagar, actually worked? Then that might have worked.

"Ad your father?" I asked.

"He wanted to be the Master of Ships," Jason admitted.

Made sense.

I made note to examine Hightower's papers carefully before leaving. In hindsight I really should have questioned him more carefully before sending him to the wall.

"Well all that still leaves us with the question of what to do," I said. "The Redwyne's have refused to bend the knee. They have an island that makes a land assault impossible. They have a fleet to throw back any seaborne invasion. And we can't risk bring the Royal Fleet to this side of the continent. Not with the situation with Dorne. They look unassailable on paper."

"Uh, Your Grace," he said. "You have a dragon."

"Yes," I said. "You don't fight a land war in Asia, and you don't fight a sea battle against a dragon. Not if your ships are made of wood. Once they realize this, the rest should be easy."

"Er?"

"Not talking to you," I said and waved my hand. "Back to your room Jason. Shoo!"

+page break+

Once I was alone except for Jasper and Alyn who were guarding my door, I settled down with a cup of wine and thought things over.

So Osmund Hightower made a convoluted plan to restore Daeron and become the new Lord Paramount of the Reach. He dragged the Redwyne's into it as well. But when the plan went south, Lady Redwyne seized the chance to make her son the next Lord Redwyne.

There were multiple convoluted plans here.

" _They are idiots_ ," Visenya said within my mind.

Actually, the plan wasn't bad.

Vhagar and myself were the lynchpins upon which Daemon's power rested. And if they had killed me the moment I showed myself, things would have gone differently. But with more and more of the Realm falling behind Daemon everyday? Doing it now will only cause a massive war.

" _Still stupid_ ," Visenya insisted.

The plan to use the horn certainly was.

Seriously. Scientific method has multiple steps. You form a hypothesis and then _test_ it before actually deploying it for anything useful. You don't gamble on an untested hypothesis.

" _That still leaves us with what to do about this defiance by Redwyne_ ," Visenya said. " _Her getting rid of that brat Jason would be fine if she_ _wasn't_ _trying to do it by forcing our hand. We can't overlook this!_ "

I'm tempted to just let her have her way. Her son didn't rebel against Daemon, and it'll let us get rid of Jason.

" _You can't_ ," Visenya said, and here she sounded so sure. " _You already showed mercy to Daeron, and the Hightowers. If you do this as well? People will think that you're soft. Having a dragon is useless if you're not willing to use it. If they realize you hesitate to use your dragon, then you'll be dealing with a hundred little rebellions for the rest of your life_."

So you want me to use the dragon.

" _Make an example_ ," Visenya said. " _If you don't then people will no longer fear you. And if they don't fear you, they don't obey you._ "

You make me sound like a gangster. Kill people just to maintain my rep.

" _Westeros is the land of the barbarians_."

Fuck.

She wasn't exactly wrong.

You can't get by through the threat of force forever. Sooner or later you have to make good on your promises of violence.

I had already killed a man.

Vhagar had already burned twenty five men to death.

But I hadn't really contemplated doing this.

Deliberately fly out like the dragonlords of old and bring fire and blood to my foes.

Every time I thought about it, I remembered the burnt corpses in the courtyard.

Fuck.

I looked down at my wine.

It was Arbor Gold.

I held back a hysterical laugh.

"Alyn," I said. "Get the maester. I have to send a raven."

+page break+

 **Chapter 25**

The third day after that, Daemon sent me a reply.

I dressed in my armor and mounted Vhagar before flying towards an empty stretch of coast and landing.

Before me was the Redwyne Straights, the ocean a clear blue and sparkling in the sunlight.

The Arbor lay beyond that short stretch of ocean.

" _You have to do this_ ," Visenya said in my mind.

Shut up.

I closed my eyes and drew one last deep breath before mounting Vhagar once more.

"Sōvegon!"

As Vhagar took off, I closed my eyes and prayed, "Belarion! Dragon God! A child of your priests calls upon you! The blood of the Forty calls upon you! Grant me victory this day! Let me bring fire and blood in your name!"

Vhagar flew towards the Arbor, and I steeled my heart.

It was time to be a dragonlord.

+page break+

I flew well above the sea, and high enough that it was hard for someone looking casually up to discern the shape of the dragon. I also had the sun behind me, having remembered the first rule of aerial combat laid out by the Red Baron.

At the speed Vhagar was flying, it took no time at all for the coast of the Arbor to come to view.

It was a beautiful island that looked as if it belonged in the Mediterranean. And while it was called the golden island, it's fields were a beautiful fresh green under the morning sun.

The main town and port of the island was Ryamsport. That was where the Redwyne fleet was anchored.

The military power of House Redwyne rested in those ships.

Because the fact that Arbor was an island worked both ways.

Just as we needed ships to attack Arbor. They needed the ships to move their armies to the mainland. Take away their ships, and the Arbor was helpless. Then we could land troops on their shores with impunity.

Visenya knew the location of Ryamsport, and could easily direct me and Vhagar.

It was in the eastward facing side of the island, and impossible to miss. And it kept getting closer by the second as Vhagar flew towards it.

The closer I got, the more details I saw.

It was a good sized town. Nothing when compared to King's Landing or even Oldtown, but by the standards of Westeros, it was a large town. On the western landward end of the town there was a white stone castle, the seat of House Redwyne. On the eastward sea facing side of the town there was the port.

That was where the Redwyne fleet rode at anchor.

They were great galleys with double rows of giant oars, massive masts with their sails furled, and bronze rams on their bows.

According to the information I had, the fleet numbered between two hundred and one hundred. And each of these galleys could hold a hundred men or more.

I flew above the port and commanded Vhagar to circle, doing a long slow circuit above the port and town. Below me, I could see the tiny shapes of men running and pointing on the decks of the ships.

" _Do it_!" Visenya yelled. " _Don't give them time to prepare a defense_!"

She's right.

Time to do the deed.

"Vhagar! Ilagon!" I commanded, and Vhagar dived down towards the ships below us. Sensing my mood, she roared at the men and ships below. I waited, and waited, as we dropped lower and lower, right until we were almost upon the ships.

" _Now_!" Visenya roared.

"Dracarys!" I roared, and there was fire.

Vhagar flew parallely above the ships at anchor, spewing green fire all the while, angling sideways so as to avoid hitting the ships masts without any command from me.

"Hepnon!" I roared and Vhagar flapped her wings, gaining altitude, leaving a long line of burning ships below us.

I did this again and again.

I dived out of the clouds and burned ship after ship, gaining height and flying out into the sea before they could counterattack. Before circling around and attacking again.

Before long, the smoke from the burning ships and the vapor from the boiling ocean waters obscured the bay, making it near impossible for anyone to attack me with a projectile. Not that they didn't try.

While most of the meager crew on the ships at anchor leaped overboard and tried to swim to safety, some of them rallied and tried to fight me off.

But their few arrows bounced right off Vhagar's scales, and their scorpion bolts missed the fast moving dragon. Though Visenya assured me that unless they got ridiculously lucky and hit Vhagar in the eye, those bolts were not a danger.

When I was finally done, hours had passed, and the entire harbor was ablaze.

Giant plumes of smoke rose from burning ships, and I was later told that the fires themselves could be seen for miles around. Below me I could see the tiny figures of men running around frantically and trying to stop the fire from spilling out into the town.

From the look of things, they were failing.

I must have burned a hundred ships at the low end. And while a few galleys that had been patrolling the waters around the bay were able to turn around and flee, thus escaping the fire, that was less than a twentieth of the whole fleet.

I circled the port for one last time before turning Vhagar towards the great castle of House Redwyne.

Fire and Blood.

+page break+

 **Chapter 26**

"Well," I said as I leaned on the balcony and watched the scene below me. "This is a pretty sight."

Below us the full might of the Reach nobility were assembled. Dressed in their Sunday best and dancing and frolicking to the accompanying music.

Leo Tyrell didn't throw a feast like Durran Baratheon did, gathering everyone in a great hall and feeding them and letting them guzzle down wine. No, he sent everyone into the gardens and set up hundreds of little tables and chairs and benches. Light was provided by lanterns dangling from little lamp posts scattered throughout the gardens. The tables were loaded with food and wine. And servants circulated refilling any plates or jugs that emptied.

It was a remarkable display of wealth and prosperity.

But, it was worth it to mark the occasion.

This feast was to celebrate the reunification of the Reach and the end of the Hightower Rebellion. Today the Reachlords bent the knee to King Daemon Blackfyre, and I accepted their oaths in his place.

It was finally over. The Reach was secure.

"It's grand, Your Grace!" Bethany Butterwell said from behind me.

She was dressed in a gown done up in the three colors of her house, green, yellow and white. Said gown was also missing a lot of fabric on the front. Her hair was done up in braids, exposing her pale neck and drawing the eye to her soft features.

All in all she looked quite pretty.

I reminded myself to keep an eye on her.

I really didn't need to deal with teen pregnancy on top of all this.

Jasper and Alyn, my ever present shadows, were also present. Though Alyn was wearing armor in his role as my knight, and carrying his sword.

Jasper however, was dressed in tunic and breeches, as they said in these parts, and only wore a sword.

"Your Grace!" I turned to see Lady Tyrell step up to me. "I missed you in the garden. Are you well?"

I waved my hand negligently, "I'm fine! I just wanted to see the gardens from this height."

And the scattered lamps below did make for a beautiful sight when seen from the third floor balcony. Like a field of stars reflecting off a lake.

"It is beautiful is it not?" Lady Tyrell moved next to me. "Ever since I first came to Highgarden, I have been amazed at how beautiful it is. The wonder of it never went away."

For me, it was an almost disorienting contrast. To go form a landscape ruined by dragonfire into this fairy tale castle. But telling her that probably won't help.

"I have been to two other seats of the great houses," I said. "And I can say that Highgarden is the most beautiful." And it was true. The only competition was the Eyrie, and it didn't quite compare.

Lady Tyrell beamed at me, "Thank you, Your Grace. However, there is one matter I wished to speak with you on? If you might indulge me?"

"Of course," I said and gestured to my minions, who moved out of earshot. "You have my ear."

"Thank you, Your Grace," Lady Tyrell said. "It is good to know that we have a friend in you. I'm forever in your debt for delivering us from captivity."

I waved it away, "It was my duty and my honor. Your lord husband is the hand of the king, and to attack him is to challenge the crown."

"That is good to hear," Lady Tyrell said and hesitated. "I wish to speak to you about my daughter, Your Grace. And the marriage you want for her."

Ah.

"She will be the Lady of Oldtown," I said. "She will be the beginning of a new house that will rule the southern Reach."

"That is most generous of you, Your Grace," she said. "But you plan to wed her to one of King Aegon's natural children?"

Woman? Are you smoking something?

"His mother was a Blackwood and his father was Targaryen," I said. "He is as noble as can be. His parents just didn't get around to marriage. He is legitimate now. Our own king was born from such a union."

"He….. that's true, Your Grace," Lady Tyrell said hesitantly.

"Don't worry," I said comfortingly. "Lord Leo will watch them and advice them both during their first years, and Oldtown is not so far from Highgarden. They will be in and out of here every other month. And I will be flying in quite frequently as well."

"Yes, that's true," Lady Tyrell said, at last seeming mollified.

+page break+

Sometime later found me sitting on a bench in the gardens with a cup of wine while Bethany danced with a young knight of House Oakheart.

"Your Grace!"

I turned my head to see Leo Tyrell this time.

"Hello, My Lord," I said and gestured with my cup. "Come join me! But please don't ask me to dance! There have been quite enough of that!"

Lord Tyrell laughed, "I promise! No asking you to dance!" He seated himself on the bench next to me. "I have heard from Ser Garth. He reports that the Arbor is mostly peaceful for now, and they are working on clearing out the harbor."

"That's good to know," I said. Jason Redwyne had been sent to the wall, and House Refwyne had joined House Hightower in the book of extinct houses. Ser Garth Flowers had been the knight in charge of the five hundred man force that had been sent to the Arbor to secure it for the crown and install it's new lord. For now, it, like Oldtown, would be ruled directly by Leo Tyrell until it's new lord could reach his age of majority. "I'm sure Aegor would appreciate us cleaning up his fief for him."

Leo Tyrell sighed, "Cleaning up his fief would not be easy, Your grace. The harbor is choked with ruined ships. The castle walls are melted. Just repairing those will take a fortune. And the trade into the island is choked off until the main harbor can be repaired. So the coffers of the Arbor will not be able to pay for it all."

"I know Leo. But it had to be done," I said for my benefit as much as anything else. "If one lord can defy the crown and get away with it, then all the lords will defy the crown and get away with it. And if the remaining landed knights and merchants of the Arbor have to go into debt to repair their harbor, they don't have the spare gold to hire sellswords or assassins."

"That is true as well," Leo Tyrell and and watched me carefully. "You are like a sword. Cold and sharp."

I didn't feel that way.

"I do what must be done to secure the Realm," I said eventually.

"That you do, Your Grace," he said. "And the Reach, at least, is with the king now. And with the Stormlands and the Vale, that's three of the Seven Kingdoms behind the King."

That's true. We had done it. Despite all the challenges. Despite the blood I had stained my hands with. We had done it.

"The North and the Iron Islands will not involve themselves in our politics. Not unless I'm sorely misreading the situation," I said. "So this leaves the Westerlands and the Riverlands."

"No, you're correct in your judgment, Your Grace. And as for the Lannisters and the Tullys. They cannot fight our combined power even if they unite," he said with a shake of his head. "They will fall in line."

"I hope so," I said and leaned back. I felt tired all of a sudden. "Do you think they will mind if I retire early? It's been a very tiring few days."

"Not at all, Your Grace," Leo Tyrell stood up and bowed. "Take your rest. I'll keep things calm here."

+page break+

 **Interlude**

She looked beautiful, though he would never dare tell her that.

For once she was out of her armor and in a dress, though Vhagar was hovering in the background. A constant presence.

"I didn't have the chance to tell you during court, but there is more good news. The Riverlands have more or less bent the knee," He said as they walked among the trees. "So that's one more kingdom with us."

"More or less?" she raised an eyebrow. "How does that work?"

"It started when you were in the Vale, but didn't really get going until you had gone to the Reach," he said and laughed. "You remember that message saying that Harrenhal flew my banners now?" She nodded. "Well they were the first. Next the Brackens and the Blackwoods came in and bent the knee. Then the the Freys sent an emissary. And finally the Tullys came over and bent the knee to me."

"So they sort of trickled in?" she asked and grinned. "Like a bunch of streams uniting to make a river?"

"You could say that," he grinned back at her. "Mother is furious though. She says Tully is not strong enough to hold his own lords in line."

"That might be the truth," she said. "But we can't turn our back on a loyal lord who bent the knee when called. Though it might be a good idea to establish a Targaryen branch house in the Riverlands as well."

"It's certainly a plan to consider," he said as they finally reached the giant weirwood tree. "How are you doing though? With everything that's been happening?"

He asked that question because she had been sending him regular reports of just what she had been doing, and some of her exploits made him worry for her well being and reputation.

Her response was telling.

She slumped and opened her mouth, then turned to look suspiciously at the weirwood before shaking her head.

"Not here," she grabbed him by the arm and started to drag him away. "Come on. I know what we can do!"

Huh?

He'd have to remember to ask her why she didn't want to talk before the weirwood.

+page break+

Daemon Blackfyre looked bemusedly at the food spread out on the checkered blanket laid out on the grass.

They had sent the servants to find a suitable basket and blanket before they raided the kitchens and flew out on Vhagar to a secluded spot along the coast with only Vhagar for a chaperon.

"What is this again sister?" he asked.

"A picnic!" she said happily. "Something from back home!"

"You do this back home?" he asked again. "Take food from the kitchens and take it outside to eat."

She burst out laughing.

"A picnic is when you spend a day outside the city and closer to nature," she explained. "Food is also a part of it. The basket and blanket are essential of course."

"You have some strange customs," he said. "But I ask again, how are you? So many things have happened, with you in the middle of it all."

She stared at him before letting out a sigh and laying down on the ground.

"It's all too much sometimes Daemon," she said. "And I don't even mean this body. I'm getting strangely used to it. I mean what has been happening. Did you know that in my homeland, killing another man except for in self defense is considered anathema? It's something we don't even contemplate in ordinary circumstances."

"I didn't know that," he admitted. "This land must be so different for you."

"You don't know the half of it," she said with a mirthless laugh. "Since I've come here, I've been a wrecking ball. I've ruined men's lives! Killed a man with my own two hands! Acted like a whore! Burned down an entire fleet of ships and melted the walls off a castle! And burned hundreds of men alive!"

"Hundreds?" he asked quietly.

"I never checked the casualty figures," she said in a small voice. "I didn't dare."

"I'm sorry," he said. What else could he say?

She simply laughed mirthlessly again.

Wait? Was she crying?

"This saving the world business Daemon? It's harder than it looks," she said as tears streamed down her cheeks, and he had to agree.

He reached over and hugged her.

He didn't abandon his friends or family.

"I'm with you sister," he said. "I swear."

She reached up and hugged him back before tearfully ruffling his hair.

He squawked.

She laughed.

"Visenya," He said after a long while once she had calmed down again. "I have a thought." She turned to look at him. "Why don't you spend some time away from all this and rest? It might give you time to heal."

"What?" she demanded in surprise. "I can't go anywhere! Not now especially! When the Realm isn't behind you yet!"

"We just need the Westerlands now," he said patiently. "You gave me three kingdoms, and the fourth fell into line with no help from us. I think we can manage this last kingdom on our own. You have earned a rest."

She still looked unsure.

"Go to Dragonstone and establish yourself there if you must do something," he said by way of compromise. "It's an easy task. Lord Velaryon has already cleared out the Daeron loyalists there. So you only have to move in. And after you're finished securing the island you can stay there a while. You can even visit me here. So you will not be completely removed from affairs of state."

"You know," she said. "I can get the dragonglass mining started. And reach out to the Night's Watch."

"Exactly!" he said.

She smiled at him, and he was relived to see her a lot happier, "I'll do it."

+page break+

 **Chapter 27**

Dragonstone was not that far from King's Landing.

I could have flown to Dragonstone in an hour.

But I was also going with a fleet of five ships so the trip took a lot longer, with me flying escort above the small flotilla.

It was a lot of hassle, but worth it for the chance to all arrive on the island at once.

Dragonstone was not a large island like the Arbor, nor was it populous. It just had the massive castle that sat on the side of the giant dormant volcano that made up the majority of the island and a small town of less than a two thousand souls built next to a small natural cove that had been converted into a port.

Other than that, there was a tiny village on the other side of the island, a few fishermens huts, and that was it.

Both the castle, and the port, were built of black solid stone and massive in scale. The famous dragonstone of the Valyrians. Said to be normal stone melted like butter by dragonfire and molded like clay by spells. They were the kind of architecture one would expect in a fantasy world. They were impressive. The rest of the town? Not so impressive.

I circled above the town until our ships put into port and then landed among the docks, scattering the gathering crowd before me.

Behind me our men disembarked.

Two hundred men, handpicked and absolutely loyal to Daemon and me, who had been wiling to permanently move to Dragonstone with their families. They were wearing red cloaks with the black three headed dragon of House Blackfyre emblazoned on their backs, and were decked out in half helmets and breastplates.

Leading them was their newly appointed commander, Ser Roger Darklyn, who had been personally recommended by Daemon for the job as a longtime friend.

There was also our new maester, our new septon, and my other minions. Their number having gone up by two. Jon and Jeyne Waters, the fourteen year old twins of Elaena Targaryen.

The people of Dragonstone were not like the other people of this continent.

Where the people of King's Landing and Oldtown fled, and the people of the Arbor were permanently traumatized, these people actually ran forwards to meet the giant fucking dragon.

They actually cheered for me.

Alyn and Jasper had to shield me with their bodies and shields so that I would not be mobbed.

Not that I was in any danger.

And unless I was hallucinating, those smallfolk were weeping.

The hell?

I looked over my shoulder at Vhagar.

Are they dragon groupies? Targaryen fangirls?

Is this how rock-stars felt like?

Oh forget it!

I shook my head and collected myself. There was work to be done.

"Secure the keep," I ordered him and he bowed to me before barking commands to his men. "And leave a detachment here to guard the ships. I'll speak to the town leaders and then come on over!"

+page break+

"We are blessed by the gods that the dragons have returned to the world!" the village representative praised me. "We will serve you faithfully and to the end of our days, Your Grace."

"Thank you," I nodded graciously. "But know that Dragonstone now belongs to the Royal Order of Dragonriders. I hold it as the Mistress of Dragons, directly under the king. The next lord of this island will be the Master of Dragons who comes after me. And they might not be my children." Not if I can help it.

"The Royal Order of Dragonriders?" the old man questioned. "Are they like the Kingsguard, Your Grace?"

"Yes," I said. "Except that seven dragonriders will be a lot more potent that seven knights."

"I understand, Your Grace," the old man bowed.

Does he understand that the Targaryens had effectively lost dragonstone? Or does he simply imagine this to be yet another form of Targaryen rule? Or does he not care as long as whoever rules here has a dragon?

"Good," I said and ignored my speculation for now. "It will be announced by the heralds today. So everyone will know. And I promise you this, I will rule justly, and so will my successors. I will see to that."

He fell to his knees.

I was going to spend some time winning over the loyalty of these people, but it seems that's already covered.

That's a good thing. Because I had made plans with Daemon to use Dragonstone as a testing ground to apply several Earth technologies and concepts to and see how they are received.

If they work here, we can slowly introduce them to the rest of the continent.

Speaking of….

"I want a tour of the town," I said and stood up. "You will act as my guide."

+page break+

"That was exhausting," I said as we marched under the gates of the great castle hours later. Vhagar had taken off and flown to the Dragonmount, where the old Targaryen dragons roosted. "And I need to inspect the castle now before we can rest."

"I need to sit down," Bethany moaned, she had really opened up this last week. "We walked all over the place and then _walked_ up here."

"Exercise is good for your figure," I waggled my eyebrows at her. "Think of all the valiant knights who will stare at your behind."

"They already do, Your Grace," Bethany said with a grin. "And I can keep my behind quite well without running around town like a smallfolk girl."

Jeyne Waters groaned behind her, and Jasper looked rather uncomfortable.

I had to hold back a full on grin.

Ser Roger Darklyn met us at the gates, "Your Grace, Dragonstone is yours!"

"Well done, Ser Roger," I said. "Did you have any trouble?"

"None at all, Your Grace," he shook his head. "The men sent by lord Velaryon had already taken the keep with no resistance. They simply turned over the command to us when we arrived."

"And the old garrison?" I asked. "How are they doing?"

"They bent the knee to the king, but they're still disarmed," Ser Roger reported. "They're three hundred strong."

"Excellent!" I said. "We can't support that many men, though. We need to release a hundred of them at the least. We can recommend they take service with the fleet or the Goldcloaks."

"Yes, Your Grace," Ser Roger said. "Shall I see to it?"

"No," I said and shook my head. Don't cut corners with the guys who guard your castle. "We will rest for a while, and then I'll speak to them. Let's get this finish today."

+page break+

 **Chapter 28**

Getting Dragonstone into tip top shape took a full week.

I interviewed the old garrison. Released a full hundred of them from service and sent them off to King's Landing. Then I gave the Velaryon troops leave to depart, getting all unwanted armed men off my island.

Then we inspected the armory, appointed officers for the garrison, and watched as Ser Roger set up a duty roster, resulting in a system of regular patrols and training.

Then I inspected the servants and put them to work cleaning the castle from top to bottom and changing the Targaryen heraldry to Blackfyre.

Then I got around to appointing the staff needed to run this huge structure, because doing all the hundred different things needed to keep the castle going by myself was a surefire way to get a nervous breakdown.

Ser Roger Darklyn was already the Commander of the Garrison. But I needed people to fill out the remaining positions.

Thankfully, some of the people I had summoned before were making their way to Dragonstone by now, so I had a pool of talent to draw upon.

Ser Arlan of Pennytree became the Master of Arms. I had seen how good he was, and I knew how good he was at training people. And he was quite loyal to me after I bailed him out of being impoverished in the Storm's End tournament. I also planned to use him to get both Jasper and Jon Waters ready for knighthood as soon as possible.

The position of Steward went to Ser Alyn Connington. He has more than proved himself at this point, and his heroic death had been indefinitely put on hold. Besides, he would learn to run a castle this way, and that was good for when he became the Lord of Griffon's Roost.

A middle aged woman named Bertha became the Chief Servant.

And them were more or less what was needed to get Dragonstone running smoothly.

All of them served under me in my new job as the Mistress of Dragons, meaning that their ultimate loyalty would be to the Order of Dragonriders that now owned the island. But as said order only consisted of just me at this point in time, it might as well be my personal fief.

After that first hectic week, I was able to let them manage the day to day running of the castle and turn my attention to the little town on the island, and exploring the giant castle.

And Daemon had been right, It was actually quite relaxing just managing this tiny island.

I also managed to dig up some very interesting reading material, and find some pretty remarkable trinkets.

+page break+

I took the room next to the master bedroom as my study, or solar if you want to go native, and had it refurnished by adding in a writing desk, a bookshelf to hold the books and scrolls I took from the library, a couple of small tables to hold other kick-knacks, and a a lockable chest.

On one of those tables sat what was the second greatest treasure I found.

A glass candle, with an otherworldly flame burning atop it.

That shouldn't have been possible.

Dragonglass was obsidian. And obsidian wasn't flammable. A fire couldn't burn without fuel. That was simple science I learned in eighth grade.

And yet here it was.

Magic.

I loved this candle for that simple reason. Because it was an obvious magical tool that I could use quite casually.

Visenya shared my enthusiasm.

She told me that both her sister and her brother cared little for such arts. Her brother focused on ruling the realm through diplomacy and military might, while her sister was a patron of art and a closet hedonist.

Visenya was the only one who kept the old religion and the old ways.

In fact, I had a sneaking suspicion that after her death, the good king Jaehaerys and his descendants abandoned the worship of the old gods and the practice of magic. Visenya outright admitted that she only ever taught the art to her son.

It was also really easy to use a candle, it became even easier if you attune to it by giving it a little blood.

I dragged the second chair in the room over so that it was facing the glass candle and sat, before gazing into the flame.

If you looked deep into the flame, you saw shapes inside the flames. If you are attuned to the candle and knew how to command it, you had the ability to control what you see.

As I looked into the candle now, I cast my mind towards King's Landing, and I saw shapes in the fire.

The massive Red Keep with Blackfyre banners flying in the breeze, the people milling about and going through their day. Ships were putting into the harbor, commerce going strong despite the chaos that had briefly gripped the Reach.

I wondered briefly if this was how it was during the Dance and the Conquest. Did King's Landing still function normally? Or was commerce choked off?

The image in the flame wavered, and briefly the Blackfyre banners were superimposed with the old Targaryen banners, and dragons were flying in the sky above the city.

" _Stay focused_ ," Visenya snapped. " _Keep your mind on the now!_ "

That was another facet of the glass candles.

When you use them, you have to keep your mind on the _where_ , but you also have to keep your mind on the _when_. The candle could see through space and _time_. If your focus slips the candle might show you things from different time periods, both past and future. And if you are especially unfocused, you just saw a jumble of images and places, randomly jumping to different places and different times.

The glass candle was a remarkable piece of magic. But using it was a task for a master.

I imagine that untrained people looking into candles saw random images and mistook the meaning of what they saw. I had a theory that this ignorant use of magic might be the reason for the huge number of mistaken prophetic visions recorded in the stories.

" _It could be_ ," Visenya allowed. " _Untrained users might mistake the jumble of visions as some god intervening_ _to_ _show them the path_ _!_ "

Ha! That's some cargo cult type thing going on, right there in Westeros.

I was glad I had Visenya to talk me through stuff.

I focused and willed the candle to show me the interior of the keep.

I saw the great hall with it's throne made of swords, with Daemon sitting on it and and Daena sitting on a second, smaller chair at the foot of the throne.

I willed the candle to focus on Daena.

Visenya snorted.

I need to practice! One day, my skill with the glass candle might save my life!

" _Hentai_!"

Arigato

+page break+

 **Chapter 29**

"Lord Damon Lannister sent a raven," Daemon reported. "He's coming in person to bend the knee. After the Riverlands declared for me, he couldn't afford to fight alone."

"Well that's convenient," I said. "That leaves all of the kingdoms south of the neck and north of Dorne with you. When is he due to arrive?"

"Another ten days at most," Daemon said. "I gave him until the end of the month."

"That means it's over," I said. "The Realm is secure. The North is too far to actually influence things this far south. And they can't muster the men needed, not so close to a winter."

It was autum now, with winter expected in a few years. And since I knew that the Great Spring Sickness hit in 209AC, I could calculate, quite roughly, when the seasons would change. If winter started next year, it would be a five year winter. With the planet running through another full set of seasons in the twenty years following.

I really needed to get some astronomy projects going and check this planets orbit.

Hmmm, maybe I can persuade Daemon to start an actual university?

It would counterbalance the Citadel.

"Sister?" Daemon said. "Are you there?"

I snapped my attention back to him and focused again, "I'm sorry. I was thinking about the seasons. So, as I said, the Starks can't deploy forces here. They will quite literally, be held back by the snow."

Daemon laughed, "That's true. But we do need good relations with the North. Remember our mission."

I sighed, "Yes. I suppose we need a good line of transport and communication right up to the wall. We can use the upcoming winter as leverage. Offer help and an alliance."

"We also need to inspect the wall," Daemon reminded me. "The reports from the Night's Watch are not encouraging. You situation you described has already started. Their numbers are barely four thousand. And a large part of them are criminals and rouges."

"I sent a raven to their Lord Commander," I said. "When he answers I'll arrange to meet him."

"That might not be needed," Daemon said. "Mother and the council has advised me to make a Royal Progress when the new year begins and winter does not start. I believe it's a good idea. I can go North as the final step of my progress and then visit the Wall before I return. And while at the wall I can inspect it."

"Hmm," I said. "Good plan. And you can then declare that all kingdoms will send men to the Night's Watch. Maybe make a royal proclamation that the Night's Watch shall always be ten thousand strong. I'll then send them dragonglass weapons."

"Yes," Daemon said. "That is a wise plan. As far as the council is concerned, this progress is to further cement the loyalty of the Realm to me. But it can also serve our mission in secret!"

"Daemon?" I asked. "Will Leo be ruling in your absence?" He already had his hands full smoothing over in the Reach.

"The Reach should have calmed down by then," he said. "And mother is coming with me. So I would be honored if you rule while I am gone."

Huh?

Me? Rule seven kingdoms? This is not how I imagined my life turning out.

"You will have advisers," Daemon said, correctly reading my mood. "You don't have to rule alone."

"I…..," I paused and really thought about it. Could I do worse than some Targaryens? I grinned, "I'll be honored to serve my king!"

Daemon laughed, "I'll tell the council. And speaking of the council, the next meeting starts in an hour. I need to go."

"Go on then," I said and waved. "See you on the morrow!"

Daemon said goodbye, and his image winked out.

We had held that entire conversation via glass candle.

I had put in a lot of work into mastering the use of them because, who doesn't want to learn magic?

It was quite fun to use them once we got the hang of them.

+page break+

The chamber of the painted table was the heart of the entire castle.

It was just another room that only served as a conference room under normal circumstances. But it held a significance that no other place had.

It was at the head of this table that Aegon had sat and declared that he would conquer Westeros. It was from here that the dream that shaped the history of the world took root. Aegon gave Westeros national identity. Even when the Targaryens lost their seat of power, even if it never became a true nation state, the people of the continent think of themselves as one people because of Aegon.

All because of one mans dream.

It took some effort before I could even bring myself to sit on that chair.

"Your Grace," I turned my head to look at Alyn who had entered the room. "The man you asked for? He's here. You asked to speak with him the moment he was here?"

"Ah yes," I said. "Send him in."

A moment later, the door opened and a very familiar man stepped inside.

"Pate!" I jumped up and hugged him. "You finally made it!"

He spluttered.

I had thought about asking Daemon to find Pate for me, but since I was on semi sabbatical and not doing anything pressing, had decided to do it myself.

And it had turned out to be surprisingly easy.

I had flown above the Kingswood on Vhagar and traced my first steps on this world, eventually finding the forest path that I had met Pate in. From there I just followed the path to the nearest village and asked there.

And sure enough, it was where he lived.

He turned out to be a married man with a kid almost old enough to marry, at least by Westeros standards, and I had arranged for them to come by ship to Dragonstone.

"Is your family settling in well?" I asked.

"Uh? Yes, Your Grace! They are, Your Grace!" He assured me.

"Good," I said and sat down again. "Now that you're here, I can tell you my plans. I want your son to try for knighthood. He's young enough and strong enough. I will arrange for him to be landed, and you will hold it for him until then."

He gaped at me and fell to his knees. Spewing out words that I guessed were thanks.

"Form the moment your son is knighted, yours will be a knightly house," I continued. "Congratulations Pate!"

He burst into tears.

I hugged him again.

+page break+

 **Chapter 30**

"I will be making a number of changes here," I said as I walked through the muddy streets of Dragonstown.

Yes, they actually named it that.

"As you say, Your Grace," Hyle said as he followed me.

"The first thing I want is the streets paved," I waved to indicate said streets. "Then have a proper drain system done to carry the refuse to the sea. You studied the diagrams I showed you?"

Hyle was the chief of the builders I had hired. Most of them were masons, but Hyle himself was the Westeros equivalent of an architect. Builder was a catch all term used to describe both jobs. And this term even covered the simple laborers for the duration of their jobs.

"I did, Your Grace," Hyle said. "It can be done quite easily. I will get my men working at once."

"Excellent," I said. "Give me good quality work quickly, and I will reward you and your men. There will also be other, larger projects for you in the future if you do truly well. One of them is the rebuilding of the sept in the town to be larger and more aesthetic."

"We will, Your Grace!" he said earnestly. "I swear it!"

"Excellent," I said again. "The next thing I want you to do is to build proper walls around the wells so that no one with a child's height can reach them, and then built a proper pulley and bucket system. No one is falling down a well on my watch!"

"Yes, Your Grace!"

"Get working then, I'll be checking your progress," I waved him away and turned to the other man who was following me. "Now we come to you."

"Yes, Your Grace?" Albett asked. He was a middle aged man and functioned as the spokesman of the town. He was also a wine merchant by trade.

"I'm giving you a new job," I told the shocked man. "You are the Mayor of the town, starting today. We will announce it in a moment."

"Mayor, Your Grace?" he asked.

"The official leader of the town," I told him. "You will meet with the townsfolk once a moons turn and bring grievances before me. You can even enact low justice, for crimes like theft. But high justice will be administered by me."

He stared at me. Then, "I will….. I will do my duty, Your Grace."

"Good," I said. "I will also forming a town watch under the guidance of Ser Jonothor Rambton. They will not be warriors, but will be charged with maintaining law and order in the town and defending it in the event of an attack until help will arrive from the castle."

"Your Grace is wise to do this," he said, giving the default answer. "I will serve you faithfully."

"You will serve your town faithfully," I said. "Your first task is to organize a citizen roll. A document that has a record of every man woman and child on the island, their age and their relations. Also include their occupation… their livelihood."

"It will be done, Your Grace," he promised.

"Good," I said. "Now come. Let's introduce you to your new town!"

+page break+

A day later, I was having another meeting.

"We don't lack any dragonglass, Your Grace," Mayor Albett said. "But we never needed to mine it. No one buys dragonglass except as a curiosity."

I looked at Ser Arlan of Pennytree.

"He speaks truly, Your Grace," Ser Arlan said. "Dragonglass is sharp, but will shatter against armor. No one buys them."

"Hmmm," I thought about it. "We have a good source of wealth for the people of the island right here. This can bring prosperity to the island. If there isn't a market for it, then we'll make one."

"How, Your Grace?" Ser Arlan asked.

I smiled, "I have a plan. But first we need to start mining dragonglass and turning it into weapons. We'll start small. Get a few men to mine dragonglass, and set up someone in the town who can turn them into beautiful, but functional, weapons."

"And then, Your Grace?" Ser Arlan asked. "How will you sell dragonglass weapons?"

"When we have enough dragonglass weapons, we will launch a marketing campaign," I said. "And I know just where to start."

+page break+

A week later I had another meeting.

"Here we are," I said. "The blackboard."

I picked up a piece of chalk, and wrote in the blackboard before wiping it.

"Amazing, Your Grace," Septon Hugh said. "How was it made?"

"Black slate stone," I said. "Getting it thin enough was tricky. But we had some good stone workers nearby." I tossed the piece of chalk to him.

He caught it and tried writing himself.

"Making the chalk was harder, but it wasn't hard to find deposits of limestone along the coast," I said. "But it's still hard to make for now, so use it sparingly."

"I will, Your Grace." he promised.

"The benches will be delivered to you by tomorrow, and the building repaired by the day after next," I said and gestured around us.

We were in the old sept, which was being abandoned because I had commissioned a new sept. The old sept was being turned into a school by my order. Once a week, all the children of the island will come here and learn their letters. Eventually I planned to introduce some history, geography and philosophy as well.

"I will send a copy of the Seven Pointed Star to the school," I said. "Have the children read it once they know enough letters, but make sure the book isn't damaged. Soon enough, every man and woman in the island will be able to read the seven pointed star."

The good septon nodded enthusiastically, his eyes shining.

I knew the religious angle was a good idea.

+page break+

"Your Grace," I looked up to see the maester of the castle. Maester Mason. "You summoned me?"

"Yes Mason," I waved a hand. "I wanted to talk to you on two things. One is this." I shoved the paper I was writing on towards him.

He took it and studied it, "A map, Your Grace?"

"A map of the known world," I said. "Can you expand upon it and draw it properly?"

"I can, Your Grace," he said while going over the map. "There is a map of Westeros in the library that is quite well detailed. I can use that. The one for Essos is not so detailed, so I might have trouble with that."

"The Essos map is not important," I said. "Simply draw a passable map for Essos, and focus on Westeros. When you have time, also read through these." I solved another stack of paper at him.

"What is this, Your Grace?" he asked as he read through them.

"A brief history of Westeros, and descriptions of the lands and kingdoms," I said. "I plan to compile them into a short book. And then I'll send it to the school and have the children as a sort of.…. Introductory work to geography and history."

"A wise plan, Your Grace," he said. "It will prevent the septon from teaching the children wrongly. In his ignorance, I would expect him to teach them fanciful tales of the old days rather than true history."

"I did consider that," I said. "But I'm sure the good septon will do his new task admirably."

"Yes, Your Grace," he bowed.

"I wanted to ask you about one more thing," I said. "Tell me, the maesters of the citadel must have a silver link to be healers do they not? How long does this training take? How long does it take for a novice to become a maester? How long does it take to earn the silver link?"

"It depends on the novice in question, Your Grace." he said. "There are Novices who forged their chain in five years. Others took five and ten."

Ten plus years. Makes sense, considering that a maester is not a specialist, but rather a jack of all trades. They had to be doctors, train and send ravens, teach the children of lords about the history of the continent and the heraldry of the houses, and trace the convoluted family trees of Westeros.

"And if you only thought them healing? Only the silver link?" I asked.

He hesitated, "It's the hardest link to forge. I would say, four years if the novice applies himself. Your Grace, might I ask what this is in aid of?"

I leaned back in my chair, "I plan to add a, house of healing? To the town, with healers trained by maesters, to tend to the needs of the smallfolk."

He visibly considered it, "Your Grace, healing has always been the preview of the maesters. They might hesitate to do this. Giving their responsibility to others is….."

I smiled and nodded, "I know. But maesters serve the great houses. In this very island, there is just you. There are more than two thousand people in the island. You cannot possibly take care of all of them."

"That's true, Your Grace," he admitted. "But the smallfolk do have midwives and herbalists. They take care of the smallfolk."

I raised an eyebrow, "Really? Really? You can trust a herbalist who probably learned his craft from some half drunk hedge wizard? No wonder so many smallfolk die of infection and childbirth!"

"That," he said. "That's a good argument, Your Grace."

"I'm not going to steal healing away from the maesters," I said. "I want to see to it that my people are taken care of. Now, when you are done looking over this school book, I want you to make a detailed plan to train a healer in just the knowledge of the silver link. I will look it over and might add some thing myself. Some things I picked up in Essos."

+page break+

 **Chapter 31**

I walked into the great hall of the Red Keep, wearing my armor, with a crimson cloak hanging from my shoulders.

The hall was lined with lords and ladies, with a line of spear wielding Goldcloaks standing guard along each wall. A pair of white clad Kingsguard flanked the throne, with Daena sitting on her little chair at it's foot.

Daemon himself was sitting atop the iron throne. Dressed in crimson with the black dragon of his house sewn into his cloak and tunic. With Blackfyre sheathed at his waist and his simple crown atop his head.

He smiled at me as I walked over and kneeled before the throne.

"Your Grace," I proclaimed. "I have returned from Dragonstone! And I bring you this gift!"

I unveiled the object I had kept wrapped in a crimson cloth and presented it to Daemon.

It was a short sword, intricately carved, and made entirely out of dragonglass, with an equally beautifully sculpted bronze hilt and guard.

Daemon leaned down and accepted the blade, holding it up into the light to inspect it.

"A princely gift," he said. "This is dragonglass, is it not?"

"It is, Your Grace," I said. "Dragonglass mined from the mountain of Dragonstone. This was crafted from the first ore we mined."

"It's beautiful," he held it up to the light. "Can you fight with this?"

"It is as sharp as Valyrian Steel," I said, no point in telling a lie. "But the blade will shatter if it hits something hard enough. This is a decorative weapon, good for one hit only."

"I will treasure it nonetheless," Daemon laughed. "It would be good to have it as a last resort weapon, or mount on a wall."

"They would make beautiful decorations, Your Grace," I said and smiled.

The cunning plan we had concocted was to make dragonglass weapons fashionable. I would publicly present them to Daemon, the royal family, and the Lord Paramounts. This would encourage others to buy them from Dragonstone. Especially since we will recommend them to others.

Daemon and I didn't even have to babble about the impending zombie apocalypse to do so. We simply had to ask the lords paramount to help out the new business I had set up in Dragonstone by spreading the word.

Sometimes I surprise myself with my genius.

+page break+

"Your Grace," the High Septon said as I met him, this time in the chambers adjacent to the small council. "Welcome back to King's Landing. It is good that you have returned."

"It is good to see you again, Your High Holiness," I said. "I missed your council flying all over the continent."

"I'm glad you feel that way, Your Grace. Because I have heard some foul rumors abut you," the old man looked at me disapprovingly.

Ah.

Ah!

The brothel.

Well shit.

"I have regretted my choice ever since, Your High Holiness," I said and did my best to look contrite. "Lord Tyrell's wife and child were in danger, and at that time I felt that I had no choice."

"Your Grace, your compassion for others is admirable trait in you," he said with the look of a patient parent. "It is one so few lords have. But you must consider how your actions might be seen by the Realm. You are a royal princess. You cannot act like a common woman about town….."

The lecture went on from there.

Honestly it was a little endearing.

It reminded me of the lectures I got from my parents back when.

Ah dammit! Now I made myself sad.

"I understand, Your High Holiness," I said at the end after apologizing profusely. "I will be guided by your words in the future. However," I hesitated. "I learned a lot of about the smallfolk during my...adventure. And I am quite concerned about how they live. In particular about the illnesses they are stricken down by."

Might as well take advantage of the opening.

"Did you know those girls have poxes that were never treated? Most of the men who go to them and give them those horrible illnesses? They can easily get themselves treated because they are lordlings. But those poor girls? They cannot go near a maester."

The dear old man sighed, "The smallfolk live hard lives, Your Grace. That is why the pious lords must do what they can to improve their lot."

"Yes, Your High Holiness," I said. "That is what I thought. And I have had a, epiphany of sorts. What if we created a holy order like the Sisters of Silence? One dedicated to healing people instead of tending the dead? They can swear an oath to always heal the sick be they lordling or smallfolk, and their houses of healing can be attached to the septs across the kingdoms. Would this not improve the lives of the smallfolk, Your High Holiness? It can be my… penance for my actions in Oldtown."

In the end I got his approval for my project. Not that I had to try very hard. He was practically more eager for this project than I was.

And deciding to go for broke, I also pitched my idea of the Sunday schools to the High Septon. He received it even more eagerly than the first one, if that was even possible, and promised me his support in the council. He also promised to address his Most Devout, the college of cardinals equivalent, and get them to support the idea as well.

Now all I had to do was float it past the council.

+page break+

"It's an unacceptable expense!" Lord Steffon thundered. "The realm is still recovering from the excess of Aegon and the," he glanced at the High Septon. "Massive cost of building Baelor's Sept. And that is all without mentioning the cost of rebuilding the damage to the Arbor."

I had presented my plan for a healing order to the Small Council. I had decided to get it passed first, and then, when it is approved, to present the less costly, Sunday school plan at a later date.

"You might find that the cost is a lot less than you think," I said. "The coffers we seized from the Redwynes and the Hightowers can be diverted to repairing the Arbor, and even then, we will only repair the harbor for them. The rest they must pay for themselves. The price of treason."

"That I agree with," Daena Targaryen, Queen Mother, Queen Regent, Milf in Charge, said. Would Daemon be mad if I seduce his mom? "We need not make any special consideration for traitors."

"But, Your Grace," this time it was Ser Ball. Heh. "Even then it would take a huge cost to start an order like this. You are talking about an order that will span the Seven Kingdoms. We will beggar the Realm just starting it!"

"One," I said. "We are not going to start the entire order right this moment. It will be done slowly over a period of years. So while it will be expensive, we needn't pay it all at once. And second, this is a joint project by the crown and the Faith. It will split the cost. So the ultimate cost is a lot smaller than you might initially think."

"Even more," the High Septon put in. "This is proposed by the princess because she is moved by the plight of the sick and needy in the Realm. At times like this we must not count our gold, but do what we must in charity for the poor and the sick."

"Winter is coming," Daemon said, and then his eyes clicked over to me. "And there have been rumors of strange sicknesses in Essos. If they come here, we need to be prepared. I approve of the plan."

Daena looked between Daemon and me, "Very well. I will do so as well."

"We are blessed that such pious lords are ruling these Seven Kingdoms," the High Septon said.

"I'll tally up the cost," Lord Steffon groused.

"How will we go about this, Your Grace?" Lord Velaryon asked me.

"His High Holiness will appoint a new leader of the order and call for volunteer members," I said and the High Septon nodded. "Once they are sworn in and their new calling is explained to them. They will begin training under a group of maesters from the Citadel." This time the Archmeaster nodded. Getting him on board had been like pulling teeth. "The training period will be three years, upon which they will begin treating patients under supervision for another four years before they become full members of the order."

"For the moment they will live and work in the Great Sept," the High Septon said. "Until the new home of the order is ready."

"The dragon pit," Lord Steffon put in.

"Dragons are not meant to be stabled like that," I said. "Maegor erred when he built that… thing. The new dragons will _not_ be living in such poor conditions."

Visenya muttered something about willful children in my head.

"Still," Lord Velaryon said. "To turn it into the home of a religious order? There is already one of those in the city."

"It's a house of healing," I said. It's the first public hospital of Westeros. "A place where smallfolk and anyone else can go and be treated for illness. Trust me, they need a lot of room."

"I think it's a good idea," Daemon said firmly, ending all argument. "We need to show the Realm that we can be merciful as well as ruthless. We came with Fire and Blood to the Arbor." I hid a wince. "Now let us extend the hand of healing to the smallfolk."

And that was that.

+page break+

"Hello, Your Grace!"

I turned to see my preeminent agent in King's Landing. A spy so well embedded that no one suspected.

"Hello Dany," I smiled.

Little Dany ran over and hugged me, "I heard you came back and gave Daemon a new sword!"

"A dragonglass sword," I explained. "It's a ceremonial weapon. Not really a true fighting weapon."

"Then why use it?" Dany asked.

"You can take it to places where a true weapon isn't allowed I suppose," I said. "And you can mount them on walls. They do look beautiful."

"They do," Dany agreed. Then, "Are you staying here now that you arrived?"

I smiled again. I couldn't help it, she was so cute, "No Dany, I still have to rule my Dragonstone. Once I'm done here, then I have to go back."

"Oh," Dany said as her face dropped. Then she looked shifty, "Might I accompany you to Dragonstone, Your Grace? I would learn so much from you! Shiera would love to come too?"

I seriously thought about it, "I will ask Daena. I promise. I will be good for you to learn about several projects I plan."

"That would be wonderful, Your Grace!" Dany cheered. Then she frowned, "Your Grace? Who is that?"

I turned and looked, "Oh that's Ser Martyn Lannister. He proposed to me, wasn't that sweet of him?"

Dany blinked, "That's wonderful! Are you going to wed?"

"If Ser Matryn proves himself," I grinned.

"Oh! Is that why he's hauling dragon dung? To prove himself?" Dany asked.

"Yes," I explained. "Any husband of mine must care for Vhagar the same way he cares for me!"

"Oh! Your Grace is wise," Dany said, nodding.

"If he passes this test, then comes the duel," I said conspiratorially. "I can't marry a swordsman who isn't my equal after all."

Behind us, Ser Martyn vomited into the pile of dragon dung.

+page break+

"That was certainly an interesting proposal," Daena said as we sat in her rooms. "It will make Daemon popular with the smallfolk."

I walked over and sat next to her so I could pour wine for her out of my jug. And totally not because I was using the chance to check out her huge tracts of land up close.

If you weren't Daemon's mom.

I blinked, "I'm sorry what?"

Daena snorted, "I said, this decision will endear my Daemon to the smallfolk."

"And the Faith," I said. "Can't forget the Faith."

"That too," Daena sighed. "It makes me angry, thinking about religion. It wasn't your fault." she assured me. "It's my brother."

Ah.

Baelor the idiot.

"I understand," I said. "But we need the Faith if we are to rule. Remember Maegor. He rode Belarion and even he couldn't rule without the faith."

"I know," Daena said and sighed. "It doesn't mean I enjoy it."

I wanted to hug her, but didn't trust myself.

I settled for patting her back.

"I also got a raven from Lord Baratheon," Daena said. "He agrees that it would be an excellent idea to built a new border fortress in the area you pointed out to us. His men are currently mapping out the land. Daemon will title Shiera as it's lady once the proclamation is made."

Ah yes, Summerhall.

"It will be good to have closer ties to the Stormlands," I pointed out. "Historically they have always stood with the dragons. Eventually Shiera can marry into House Baratheon, or another major house in the Stormlands." I was thinking of Alyn when I said that.

We made small talk after that, talking about this and that.

After a while she turned the conversation to another topic, "So! All the kingdoms except for the North are with Daemon now. And the Stormlands and the Reach are his staunch supporters. With the riverlands content under his rule. And the Westerlands and the Eyrie compliant."

"And the Iron Islands?" I asked.

"Fuck the Iron Islands!" Daena said and I burst out laughing.

"Yes, I heard how Damon Lannister came personally to bend the knee," I said when I recovered. "That mean the realm is secure, once we bring the Starks on board. How goes it with them?"

"Ravens have been going back and fourth between us," Daena said and leaned into me. I didn't complain. "They're saying that Daemon is a Blackfyre king, and as such the oath the Starks swore to the Targaryen kings no longer applies to them. The Stark kings swore allegiance Aegon and his heirs in perpetuity. But my son did take a new name when he was legitimized."

"Well isn't that just dandy," I said and drank down my wine. "Can it get any worse?"

"They're also demanding that we fulfill the Pact of Ice and Fire before they treat with us," Daena unhelpfully said.

"Ha!" I said. "Stubbornness seems to be a Stark thing."

"Those northern savages!" Daena snapped. "Even the Iorn Islands sent their submission rather than throw against Daemon. Even if we all know it's on paper only. But these Northmen hold out."

"To be fair," I said. "We don't need the North or the Iron Islands to secure the Realm. But it'll be good to have their submission. Shall I fly north and treat with the Starks?"

"No," Daena said and shook her head firmly. "You have already done a lot for us. For Daemon. But it's best if the Realm sees him do this on his own. He has invited Lord Stark south, to discuss the coming winter and the submission of the North. We'll have their allegiance then."

Ah.

They're worried about me getting all the glory and possibly destabilizing Daemon.

Well destabilizing him was the last thing on my mind.

"I understand," I said. "I'll leave it to Daemon and be in Dragonstone."

This time Daena hugged me, sending tingles up my body.

Dammit!

I had been in this world for six months and I was still a virgin.

That had to be it.

I needed to find a nice girl and seduce her.

I made my excuses and fled the room.

+page break+

 **Chapter 32**

Operation Thawing out the Starks. Or Operation Woof! Woof! Happened soon after the new religious order I pioneered, the Sisters of Mercy, were made official.

Seventy Seven young septas were assembled in the Great Sept and took the oath of the new order, and seven maesters were sent by the citadel to educate them.

I myself contributed to the project by commissioning an instruction manual for the future members of the order with Maester Mason of Dragonstone. A healers handbook.

The medical knowledge of the maesters were already impressive. But they didn't know about germs, the importance if disinfecting hospitals, surgical tools, and wounds. They didn't even know the importance of boiling water before using it to clean wounds. I was able to contribute that much at least to the project.

Maester Mason took to the project with enthusiasm once I offered him the chance to write the definitive reference for the new order of healers.

He was also a huge nerd.

He loved the challenge of it.

He swore that the book would be ready by the time the novices finished the first year of their training. We would give it to them as a one year apprenticeship present once we had copies made via scribe.

Meanwhile, while I was playing at being Florence Nightingale, Daemon was in talks with Lord Stark.

Lord Stark had arrived with a huge retinue a week ago, responding to Daemon's summons.

So Daemon was busy trying his hand at being a diplomat.

I learned all about the talks through the glass candles, because I had removed myself from the capital and fallen back to Dragonstone.

Didn't want to spoil Daemon's routine, after all.

I was busy doing something else that was quite vital for the betterment of the world.

Something crucial.

Something that was absolutely necessary.

With the helps of Rohanne's father. Who turned out to be the Archon of Tyrosh, who knew, I liberated a few slaves who had been trained in sculpting and stone-working, and freed them before offering them jobs.

They undertook a very important project for me.

It took them a full month for them to get it right, and that was with me supervising.

But the end product? It was worth it.

"Look at it Bethany!" I proclaimed as I walked through the room. "See these? These are glass lamps! These are tiles! And this is a bathtub! And this is a sink and a mirror! And this! Is a toilet!"

I pulled the attached chain and listened to the flushing water sound with a fond smile, "Ah, perfect!"

" _She must think you mad_!" Visenya snapped.

Hush you! We have a modern bathroom in Dragonstone! Let me have this moment.

"It's very interesting, Your Grace," Bethany said. "Um, what is that?"

I looked where she was pointing.

"Ah the water tank," I said. "It needs to be filled once a day, and then the water from the tank can be sent by little pipes to all three fixtures. And from there they will be activated by taps." I turned on the tap on the bath to demostrate.

"That's very clever, Your Grace," Bethany said. "Wait are there two water tanks? And how is the water hot?"

I laughed merrily, "It's something I'm a little proud of. The water going to the bathtub is held in a second, smaller tank and heated before it's released, letting you have a hot bath at anytime. You just need to light the fire under it. Our very own water heater!"

Bethany looked around as I lovingly ran my hand over the hot water.

The comforts of home.

"Oh this is perfect!" I spun in a circle and gabbed a startled Bethany and kissed her on lips lightning fast. "Now excuse me sweetie. I need to take a bath!"

I started to pull back and hesitated.

Bethany had frozen.

"Bethany?" I tried to get the frozen girls attention. "Did I make you uncomfortable? I'm sorry sweetie. I just got so exited. I swear I won't do it again."

At last she spoke up, hesitantly, "What if I want you to do it again?"

Huh?

What just happened?

Visenya was giggling.

Did she just proposition me?

"Have you done this before Bethany?" I asked, and she nodded hesitantly, her face a furious red.

Well...

Ah, what the hell!

"Do you want to take a bath with me?" I asked.

+page break+

 **Chapter 33**

"I sat through one of these at Storm's End," I said to Daemon who sat next to me. "It was terribly exiting!" Not that comparing the two was possible. That tournament was local, with only Stormland knights participating. It was nothing to the pageantry and chivalry of a tournament hosted by the crown. It was totally worth wearing a dress for.

"I love the joust," Daemon agreed with me. "But I love it even more if I can ride in it!"

"Now now!" I said. "Don't be like that. You're the king. Kings don't ride at tilt with the knights. They sit on the dais and watch."

"I could have entered," Daemon groused. "I could have won too."

"And get injured by an unlucky lance?" I asked. "That would be the perfect chance to kill you and make it look like an accident."

"I know," Daemon admitted. "But there is a side you and mother didn't consider. I have to prove my valor if I'm to be respected. And how to do that except at joust?"

He wasn't wrong, "You will get plenty of chances to prove your valor once you have an heir or two. Until then, keep your skills sharp."

Daemon sighed.

"Cheer up!" I said. "Your princess is watching! You don't want her thinking you're regretting your choice?"

Daemon went red.

It was now eight months since I came to this world, and the end of the year 184AC.

This tournament was thrown to celebrate a very important event.

The unification of all seven kingdoms under Daemon's rule.

The last kingdom to bend the knee had been the North. And it had only taken a promise of help for the winter and the promise of a royal marriage with one of Daemon's kids and the marriage of Elaena Targaryen to Lord Stark's brother, who stayed in the south to represent the north in Daeron's court. A position that would be permanent from now on.

A new pact of ice and fire to replace the old one.

All done by Daemon with minimal input from the rest of us.

Once this tournament was over, Daemon would be making a royal progress. He would go through the kingdoms in the order they were conquered.

First the Crownlands, with a short voyage to Driftmark to the seat of the Velaryons. And then to the rest of the major Crownland settlements like Duskendale, Maidenpool, and Darry. Then through the Kingswood to the Stormlands, where he would pass through the major castles until he reached Storm's End, where he was due to be greeted by Lord Baratheon. His path through the Stormlands would end in Summerhall, the future seat of Sheira Seastar.

Then he would enter the Reach, and do the same thing, and then the Vale, the Riverlands, the Westerlands, and finally the North. While in the North, he would make his way to the Wall and inspect it. While there he would announce that the strength of the Night's Watch would always be ten thousand men. And that each man must be armed with a dragonglass weapon.

Meanwhile, I would be in King's Landing. Sitting on the Iron Throne. I planned to use the time to finalize my plans to build hospitals and schools across Westeros in collaboration with the Faith. Except they would be called the Houses of Healing and Seventhday School.

I turned my head and looked at the King's Landing skyline.

Already, workmen were busy turning the former Dragon Pit into the chapter house of the Sisters of Mercy. And I had already arranged to set up a dozen little schools in the city that were managed by septons.

I would have loved to work on the roads and the sewers as well, but education and healthcare too precedence. If we get through the winter and the spring, with it's Great Spring Sickness, then we would move onto larger projects during the summer.

In the tournament field, the herald announced the next bout, Ser Alyn Connington against Ser Adamm Tully.

The two knights saluted each other with their lances before riding at each other.

Alyn dropped Tully in a single tilt.

"He's going to name you Queen of Love and Beauty again," Daemon said with a grin.

"He," I said and hesitated. Alyn had been nothing but faithful. Who was I to deny him his innocent fun. He already knew that marriage was out of the question. "If he wants to."

"No punishments?" Daemon asked slyly.

"No," I said firmly. Then I hesitated. "I might take him flying later."

Daemon laughed.

Next, Leo Longthron took the field, decked out in armor carved with roses. He was facing Ser Ball, the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard.

The first tilt, ended with a pair of broken lances and no one unseated.

And the next.

And the next.

"Wow," I said. "They're good!"

"Ser Quentyn is a superb knight," Daemon said. "It's why he was made Kingsguard." Other than his loyalty, went unsaid.

In the field, Leo Tyrell finally unhorsed Ser Ball on their fifth tilt. Daemon let out a disappointed groan.

"You know," I said. "He might win this if he gets past Alyn."

"Alyn is slightly better," Daemon told me quietly. "His balance is perfect. And he is a superb rider."

"So Alyn might win? He's the favorite?" I asked. Jousting was something I didn't understand.

"He has the best chances," Daemon said and hesitated. "Did you know Alyn wanted to join the Kingsguard?"

"He told me," I said in resignation. "Thankfully, there are no open spots." All seven positions have been filled by now.

"But if a spot opens should I give it to him," Daemon looked uncomfortable. "He is loyal to you, and a good knight. If this is what he wants..."

"He is also the heir to his father," I said and sighed. Alyn had been loyal, that was true. "If that's what he truly wants, I'll talk to his father. He has another boy after all."

In the field, the newly knighted Jasper was riding against Lord Blackwood.

"Lord Velaryon also spoke to me," Daemon said as Jasper broke his first lance against Blackwood.

"What did he want?" I asked. I didn't quite like Lord Velaryon. He was a good admiral, but rubbed me the wrong way.

"He spoke of Ironborn raids on the Reach," Daemon said, and I got a bad feeling. "With the Arbor fleet gone, they have virtually no defense."

"And what did Velaryon plan to do?" I asked.

"He says we can't move the Royal Fleet around to defend the western coast, not when there already is a threat from Dorne to guard against."

Damn! He wasn't wrong.

"I can pay them a visit," I offered, as it was kind of my fault this was happeing. "They will get the point very soon afterwards, I promise."

"Let's wait for now," Daemon said. "There is still the Lannister fleet, and Seaguard has a small fleet of their own. So the Westerlands and the Riverlands are safe. And the Shield Islands have ships of their own so they can't strike too deep into the Reach. So it's just the Arbor and the coast of the Reach that's in danger. I will look into the situation on my progress, and see how bad it is."

"And if it's bad?" I asked.

"We will act," Daemon said. "The Lannister fleet is large enough to move troops into the islands. And such a campaign will only cement the loyalty of my lords to me."

In the tournament field, Ser Harwyn Brune unhorsed Lord Steffon Baratheon, making him one of the last three knights standing.

The next tilt was Leo Tyrell against, Ser Harwyn Brune, and Leo unhorsed Brune easily.

That meant that the final tilt of the tournament was Leo Tyrell against Alyn.

"That minor hiccup with the raiders aside," I said. "We have done it Daemon. We united the Seven Kingdoms. And now we can prepare for the future."

He grinned at me, "The Blackfyre Rebellion that actually succeeded!"

I grinned back, "It was a very confusing Blackfyre Rebellion!"

+page break+

 _The End..._

+page break+

 **Epilogue**

"All right troops!" the princess Visenya called. "Font and center!"

Daenerys ran in to stand in a line with Shiera and Jeyne. The three of them had been selected to help the princess in her great work.

A lot had changed in the last six years, winter had come and gone, and the Realm had gone through a lot of changes, most of them led by Visenya.

Dany herself had gone to help with the new schools and houses of healing that had been set up across the kingdoms. Something both the smallfolk and Visenya praised her for. And she heard her Daemon talk about improving roads and setting up a bank.

But the most important change was about to happen now.

They were atop the giant mountain that rose up behind Dragonstone. Where a small arena had been constructed. Fourteen six foot tall pillars surrounded it in a half circle, with fourteen statues atop them. A stone alter sat in the center with carvings of dragons running along it's length.

One side of the alter was without pillars, and it gave an opening for Vhagar to move her huge bulk into the arena. So that the huge dragon was looming over the alter.

"Now," Visenya said. "Carefully move the eggs into position."

Dany, along with the two other girls, opened the chests they had brought and picked up the eggs inside, before moving them to the alter. Dany had to do the trip twice, because she was hauling Daemon's egg as well. It was the same with Jeyne, she bore an egg for her twin.

Selecting the proper eggs had been a hard enough task, according to Visenya.

According to Visenya, some dragon eggs were simply too far gone to hatch. They had turned to stone. That meant that they had to search high and low for eggs that could be hatched.

When all five eggs were on the alter, Dany backed away with the two girls, and Visenya stepped forwards.

"Be careful!" Dany called after her.

Visenya looked over her shoulder at them and grinned, "Don't worry! I'm fairly sure this will work."

"Fairly sure?" Jeyne demanded.

"Mostly sure," Visenya said.

Beside her, Dany heard Shiera praying.

"I have a bad feeling about this," Dany heard herself say.

"Oh don't worry so!" Visenya waved their worries away. "Now stand back and let me get you your wedding present!" Dany felt herself heat up.

Sheira patted her on the back, "There, there. We all know you can't wait to give our king the ride of his life!"

Dany squeaked and covered her face.

"Shiera!" Jeyne snapped. "We are witnessing history being made. Be respectful!"

Shiera didn't listen, "Hah! The princess trying to burn down the Brackens and the Blackwoods when they named those hills of theirs _Visenya's_ _Teats_? That was history being made! This is just..."

"Shiera!" Dany snapped.

Shiera grinned, but she did shut up.

At the alter, Visenya had apparently taken a dragonglass blade and slashed open her wrist, spilling her blood into the eggs before casting the blade aside and raising her arms to the heavens.

She called out in Valyrian, her words too archaic and fluent for Dany to make out more than one word in five.

But Shiera apparently could, "She's calling to the old gods of Valyria and asking them to bring their children back into the world."

Before Dany could answer, Visenya shouted a word Dany recognized, and Vhagar breathed green fire onto the alter and the eggs.

It lit up the night and they had to sheild their eyes.

Dany had heard the story from her Daemon about the Winter War, and how they conquered the Iron Islands. She had heard that Vhagar had melted castle walls with her flames, that steel had run like water while the men wearing that steel had been burned to ashes.

She had also visited the Arbor, to see Aegor's new seat. And she had seen with her own eyes the melted stone of the the Redwyne Castle's walls.

But she had never truly seen it happen.

Before her eyes, the stone alter became cherry red and ran like butter. Visenya, who had been standing the closest to Vhagar, had to hastily backpedal before she caught fire herself.

It got so bright she had to cover her eyes and turn away.

After what felt like hours later, Visenya came and got her from where she was taking shelter with Jeyne and Shiera. The three of them had left the arena entirely and at down on the stone path that led up to it.

"Come on Dany," Visenya said. "You dont want to miss this."

They went back to the arena, where the heated stone had cooled, and the stone alter had deformed under the dragon's fire.

But that was not what caught their eye.

Surrounding the giant form of Vhagar, there flew five smaller dragons. Each no larger than a cat.

"We did it," Visenya said. "The future of the Realm, and the future of the _world_ , is secure! The dragonlords have returned to the world!"

+page break+

 _Really the end….._

+page break+


End file.
